


My Sky

by Ookami_Saru



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, My Sky, probably somewhat slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-08-18 08:18:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8155442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ookami_Saru/pseuds/Ookami_Saru
Summary: Since "Pride and Prejudice" we know that love is a path of hindrances and twists. One may be bound by his work or by oaths. Sometimes one is bound by his own web of dos and don'ts or by his past. Not even members of Overwatch stay unaffected from this, especially not when it comes to a certain doctor and a security chief.





	1. Nothing a Patch Couldn't Fix

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Deutsch available: [Mein Himmel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9308099) by [Ookami_Saru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ookami_Saru/pseuds/Ookami_Saru)



> Hello everybody!  
> This is my first try of an Overwatch fanfiction, although I have to admit: I've never played the game. Still I turned out to be a total geek on this ship xD
> 
> I tried to use at least some bits of the many languages from the characters, but I would be glad if someone could correct mistakes! (Mr. Google is not the safest translator for supporting someone who is author, translator and beta-reader in one, I know).
> 
> I'm not sure wether the rating stays the same or not yet, so there might be a Change in that ahead.
> 
> Well, please enjoy!^^

“HIGHSCORE!!!“

”Hush, Hana! “, Fareeha growled and pressed a hand against her ear. She would never understand where that young Mechpilot gained her energy for her weird games after each mission.

“Dangsin eun neulg-eun yeoja ya, geu ihaehaji anhneunda!”[1], the young Korean snapped and continued her game, blowing her bubblegum.

“Whatever…”, Fareeha sighed and laid back against the wall of the transporter. Just minutes ago, they were all in the middle of a battle and now they sat here in this van as if nothing had happened. Lúcio lolled on his seat as he listened to his music, while Jesse tried to make Hanzo to tell him what time it was. The only persons who were not as carefree, were a handful of soldiers of Helix that were under Fareehas command. Some of them were sitting on their seats in silence, seeming to be having serious thoughts about their future, while the rest of them was still processing the last recent events of the mission. Nevertheless, paleness in their faces was shared among them, something that Fareeha could remember just too well from her own first steps in her career.

“Don’t forget to drop by Doctor Ziegler for check-up.”, Winston’s voice sounded through their headsets. The gorilla had taken over control of the transporter from their headquarters and seemed to have received the evaluation of today’s mission as well.

“Phara, status report please.”

The Egyptian sighed internally which no one noticed and cleared her throat.

“Jesse and Hanzo are alright. Lúcio seems to have sprained his ankle. Hana… as always. Two of my men are lightly wounded, one should probably get a psychological check.”

She glanced over to the newest member of her squad. It was a young man, Khalil Kuma, of about 22 years of age and with compatible experience in real battles, which meant not quite much. He obviously had the most struggles to handle his new experiences. Empty eyes stared out of the window as he sat on his seat. Fareeha could see him talk to himself in the reflection of the window.

“Hm, well, fine. I’ll inform the doctor about that. What about you?”

She tore her gaze away from the recruit and looked at the crack in her raptora-suit that covered her abdomen.

“I’ll borrow Torbjorn’s workshop.”, she said curtly. Fareeha did not mention the fact that she had saved Khalil out of a dangerous spot during the mission. Something that could have ended much worse for the both of them. Gladly, Winston was satisfied with her report. She closed her eyes and indulged herself a moment of peace.

* * *

“So, that’s all!”

The doctor gave him a short smile and turned back to the file in front of her.

“Come back tomorrow for a re-check.”

“Hum, Doctor Ziegler?”, he cleared his throat.

She looked up from the file and eyeballed him questioning.

“Well, it’s…”

He kneaded his hands, unsure how to approach this topic. Perhaps, he should have just kept it untouched and stepped out of the examination room. It was not his business what the Head of Security was doing after all. But still, he wanted to make sure that she was alright. As the silence grew heavier and the soldier refused to end his thought, the doctor quickly looked up his name with a frown on her features.

_Khalil Kuma. The young recruit, who should pay a visit to Tekhartha. Seelsorge. [2]_

“What’s the matter, Mister Kuma?”, Angela asked with a comforting smile. She knew that she had to be careful. Shock patients could close up themselves within a blink of time, even though they may have wanted to talk about something. The soldier winced at her soft voice.

“Have… Have you checked on Captain Amari already?”, he asked.

“Well, I can’t just tell you that, I’m sorry.”, she answered politely. Khalil just nodded and turned to leave.

“You should check on her carefully. I don’t want to be the reason if… if she may…”, he seemed to be horrified, “I don’t want the captain to be dismissed because of me.”

Just as he pressed out these words, he hurried out of the examination room and left a confused Doctor Ziegler behind. She just wanted to calm him but stopped mid-process. Angela stared at the ajar door, recapping what has been said, while she absentmindedly tipped on her file with her pen.

_Winston wasn’t talking about a serious injury of her. He said she wanted to fix some scratches in her suit._

She lightly shook her head and finished her notes. Then she pressed the button on her intercom.

“Fareeha Amari, please.”

With a sigh, she pushed herself back from her desk in her swivel chair and got up to her file cabinet. She was still thinking about what Khalil had told her before, as she grabbed for the impressive file of her next patient.

_Guess I have to reserve a drawer for her someday…_

She swiftly placed the file onto her desk and frowned. Usually, the Security-Chief would now have been knocking at the door at latest. Angela knew, Fareeha never has been a fan of medical appointments and generally made light of some of her injuries, but still it was odd for her to be this late. It was against her sense of duty and against the trustful basis Angela had been fighting for.

Angela took a deep breath and poked her head out of the door. Sometimes the Egyptian could be prissy like little child.

“Fareeha Amari.”, she called into the corridor. No answer.

“Excuse me, Doctor Ziegler.”, her receptionist said, “Fareeha Amari is not here.”

“Nicht?”, the blonde doctor asked in surprise. The receptionist shrugged helplessly and shook her head.

 _Das chan doch nöd…!_ [3]

Angela pinched her bridge and closed her eyes with an exasperating sigh. The Egyptian was definitely the most stubborn patient throughout her career as a doctor.

“Gut.”, she said stretched. “If someone need me: I’m at Torbjorn’s workshop.” [4]

She grabbed her bag with first aid kits in no time, her heels clacking furiously against the floor as she rushed out of the Med Bay. If the patient was not willing to come to the doctor, the doctor would have to come to the patient.

* * *

Heavily groaning, Fareeha manhandled her breastplate of her raptora-suit onto the workbench. It was almost a miracle that she had managed to get out of it all by herself, concerning her condition. She carefully touched the provisional bandage on her abdomen. Actually, it was nothing more than a fresh towel she taped to her body. It did not help against the pain but it kept the wound from catching dirt.

She hummed softly to herself as she looked for the tools she needed for fixing the damage, when she suddenly heard the sound of heels down the hallway. The Egyptian perked her ears. It could not be her mother, she was still on a mission.

_Lena?_

“I knew it!”, an angry voice that belonged to the swift strides appeared right behind her. Fareeha hardly noticeable winced and turned her head.

“Angela.”, she said and tried to hide her surprise.

“I’m going to ask you only this once: Where were you?”

With folded arms, the doctor built up in front of the security chief. A small angry frown threw a threatening shadow on her usually angelic face. Fareeha eyeballed Angela over her shoulder and processed her answer.

“Here.”, she simply said with a shrug. It was not necessary to her to give further explanations as the situation was obvious.

“So, so.”, Angela she said in a huff. “And you didn’t find it necessary to take on the regular check-up after your mission?”

Inwardly, Angela was boiling and if she would not have been a surgeon, her hands would have been probably trembling of anger. However, only her tense posture and voice exposed her.

“I’m fine.”, Fareeha answered, almost annoyed.

_Why does she have to worry all the time…?_

The Swiss was laughing almost hysterically and shook her head.

“This would be the first time you’d be returning unharmed!”

“Nothing a patch couldn’t fix.”, the Egyptian snarled annoyed. Nevertheless, she had to admit that it was gradually becoming uncomfortable. Hopefully, this conversation would find an end soon. Then she could finally work on her suit and relax.

As if Angela has read her mind, she tilted her head peering at Fareeha.

_Algaraf! [5]_

“Don’t you think it would be more comfortable if you’d turn when talking to me?”, the blonde dug deeper. For a bit of a moment she saw something like slight panic flaring up in the eyes of the taller woman. Angela had winded. All she had to do now was to encircle the stubborn squad captain.

Skeptically, Fareeha narrowed her eyes.

_Why? Why the hell does she have such a fucking keen sense for that?_

Of course she did not want to give Angela the satisfaction of hitting the bull’s-eye, so she gritted her teeth and turned towards her. She pursed her lips defiantly and slowly folded her arms over her chest. Something she might have better not done, as the provisionally treated wound burned like hell. However, Fareeha did not dissemble.

Doctor Ziegler curiously raised an eye-brow and stepped a little closer.

“What are you hiding there?”, she asked, pointing at the slight bulge underneath Fareeha’s shirt. Her blue eyes looked for even the slightest hint for the weird behavior of the soldier.

Fareeha on the other hand, did her best to conceal named hints. She built up to a proud posture and eyed the Swiss. Anyone would have stopped asking any further questions now, but Angela simply was not just “anyone”. The blonde slowly nodded and literally laid her finger into the wound. For less than a second pain flickered across the proud features of the Egyptian.

“Well, well. Nothing a patch couldn't fix… Down with that shirt!”

With that a silent battle sparked between the two women. Angela had stopped counting how often they had fought those battles in the past. Physically, Fareeha was clearly superior to her but in this case she mostly had better cards.

Brown eyes stared displeased into blue ones. The longer they stayed like that, the more annoyed Fareeha became. She cursed this look on the blondes face to which she felt like a small child. Her mother had the same invincible look. The security chief growled reluctantly and coarsely stripped out her shirt.

“This… is what you call a patch?!”, Angela asked slightly too loud and widened her eyes in disbelief. Fareeha always had creative or venturous looking methods to treat her injuries but that had beaten everything. Carefully, her fingertips ran over the towel that was already soaked with blood in some spots. She dropped her bag next to her in haste and fished for her scissors and tweezers.

“Sit down.”, Angela instructed Fareeha.

The soldier responded with a deep growl from the very back of her throat. Just because she did as she was told that time, would not mean she would readily obey further orders. Yet, she knew better seeing Angela’s cold and dunning glance.

_What did Hana call that? Mom-mode?_

With a resigned sigh and a look on her face as if she had been stepped on, Fareeha sat on the workbench. Now she had caused exactly that what she had wanted to prevent. She simply could not stand it when others worried about her – not to mention that she disliked consultations in general. Taking care of others was her job!

Under the skeptical surveillance of her patient, Doctor Ziegler removed the duct tape bit by bit that fixed the towel. She gave her disbelief some space by muttering curses or whatever came to her mind to herself continually in Swiss German. Fareeha did not understand a word but from the sound of her voice she could take that her doctor was anything but at glee. So she decided to endure the treatment and being as quiet as a mouse. The Egyptian concentrated on Angela’s hand instead. She watched her slender fingers that delicately wrapped around the medical tools and skillfully worked themselves through the provisional bandage as if they were dancing. Like a drowning man, Fareeha took in even the smallest impressions.

A final tug, a painful groan from the security chief and Angela had uncovered the wound. It was about twenty centimeters long, drawing its way up from Fareeha’s abdomen until it ended shortly before her rip cage above her solar plexus.

“Gott, Fareeha. What have you done this time?”, Angela asked and put on some gloves.

“My job.”, Fareeha said defiant. “Protecting people.”

She gasped and took a sharp breath as the doctor’s cool fingers lightly touched her wound to take a closer look. Her grip on the tabletop became stronger too, so that her knuckles began to shine through her skin.

“Ja, and my job is mending people.”, Angela chided, not bothering to avert her gaze from her work. With a slight sigh, she shook her head and rummaged around in her bag.

“Your choice: Sitting or lying.”, the blonde said seriously as she fumbled for her needle.

Fareeha frowned irritated.

“Pardon?”

“Do you want to sit or lie down on the bench?”, Angela repeated. “The wound has to be stitched.”

Blue eyes eyed the Egyptian waiting for her to answer.

“Sitting.”, she decided.

The doctor nodded silently and started to clean the wound. Underneath the tentative touches of a dabber soaked in disinfectant, the core muscles of the security chief tensed involuntarily. She closed her eyes and imagined herself taking a trip through the skies with her raptora-suit. Flying freely through the air, higher and higher towards the sun, her sun, that belonged to no one else but her. A sun much brighter than the usual sun and the closer she got the –

“Brace yourself.”, Angela interrupted her trail of thoughts and just as she warned her the piercing pain of the needle drilling through her skin washed over her. Fareeha painfully groaned deeply from her throat but she kept still. With each stitch, her grip around the edge of the tabletop tightened even more, so that she thought she must have deformed the massive metal that it was made of.

Finally, the needle’s dance ended. Just now Fareeha noticed she had kept her breath the whole time. She hesitantly blinked through her long lashed to see Angela patching her up properly.

“You could have had it easier.”, the Swiss chided. She collected her medical instruments and placed them in her bag. An uneasy silence spread between the two women, as one avoided to look into the face of the other, her lips pressed into a flat line, while the other one forced her teeth apart.

Eventually, Fareeha grumbled.

“I’m sorry.”, she muttered hardly audible, yet Angela lifted her head to meet her eyes. The sight of Angela hit Fareeha like a punch to her gut. Her bright and warm blue eyes were blurred by first tiny tears. The angered frown had been replaced by a troubled one and if she was not mistaken, the softly smiling lips quivered slightly.

It was such a shock for Fareeha, she even did not register when the blonde rose.

“Fareeha.”, Angela said softly. Her fingers gently lifted the Egyptian’s chin. With her other hand she tentatively dabbed blood from her patient’s lower lip. It burned and Fareeha sharply sucked in air.

_When did I…?_

Cool fingers brushed soothingly over her cheek and distracted her from her trail of thoughts.

“Don’t always check everything with yourself alone.”, Angela whispered hauntingly, but she could not hide the slight tremble in her voice. Imagining Fareeha would not have survived the night and she would not even have known about her constitution, enraged her as well as it pained and scared her. It was an emotional turmoil she should not have had, not as a professional doctor. She needed to stay cool even in the most life threatening moments of her patients to do what was needed to be done.

Angela took a deep breath and forced herself away from Fareeha, trying for professionalism.

“You should let Trobjorn fix your suit. First priority for you today is to rest! I’ll be looking at the suture again tomorrow. Then it will be decided when you’re ready for the battlefield.”

She tossed her bag over her shoulder and turned to leave. However, the sudden warmth on her shoulder made her freeze on the spot.

“I’ll be there at 8 o’clock.”, Fareeha said. Her face showed no emotions as she looked at Angela, but her eyes indicated a grateful smile. “Thanks for giving me a piece of your mind.”, she added and reached for the bag.

“Fareeha…”, the Swiss sighed and tried to get her bag back, but Fareeha had a strong grip. So she gave in and offered Fareeha her shoulder for support instead.

* * *

“Oi, doc!”, Lena greeted her friendly as ever.

Angela smiled at her and waved at the others at the table, before she took her usual seat.

“Where is our head of feds?”, Lena asked and suddenly popped up next to Angela. “Off to Bedfordshire alrea’y?”

Angela thought about her answer for a moment.

_She wouldn’t like everyone to worry about her, especially not if she had said she was alright beforehand…_

“She has a meeting with her squad team. Guess, she’ll be eating with them.”, she said clearing her throat. In the corner of her eyes she could see Ana perking her ears and she was glad she came up with this little white lie fast enough. Angela knew about the old sniper’s temper in terms of her daughter’s well-being.

“Oh!”, Lena said and frowned thoughtfully. “Right… Hana told me one o’ her mates threw a spanner in the works. Hope she won’t kill him for tha’.”

Ana and Angela frowned to the chuckle of the Brit.

“Why should my daughter kill her subordinates?”; Ana asked.

“Well…”

The lively Brit disappeared for a split of a second within a flash of light just to reappear right behind the old sniper. She cheekily leaned against the back of her chair and continued her trail of thoughts.

“When I think ‘bout how you keelhauled Jack and the others when somethin’ went wrong, I can imagine what Fareeha is able of. She might be calm on the outside but I think she can really get pissed off, if her mates don’t reach her expectations. Don’t forget: You’re her mo – “

“Husana, alaintizar!”, Ana hissed and spun to reach for the jackanapes. [6]

Angela struggled to fight down her laughing. Lena was not that wrong, yet Fareeha would probably never physically harm one of her squad. A serious talk, raised voices perhaps and a suspension was more likely.

_Even though she is quite similar to her mother and although I see her passion burning in her eyes each time she fights on the field, I don’t believe Fareeha would make her squad stay the night outside in freezing cold only dressed in their underwear to discipline them. Nein, that’s clearly Ana’s handwriting._

Supper turned out to be a feast, which was probably due to Lúcio’s turn in the kitchen. He definitely showed talent in cooking as well as he did in music. Each one of the Overwatch members had a story to tell that they presented more or less lively. It was so much fun. Angela would have loved to listen to Reinhardt’s anecdote, but she had still something on her list that needed her attention. So she excused herself after finishing Lúcio’s wonderful bean stew.

Her steps echoed from the walls as she strode through the corridor of the housing unit of their headquarters. A comfortable silence hung in the air that should only be disturbed by the last party people when they would eventually decide to go to bed pretty much past midnight. Behind some doors one could hear showers, TVs or soft beats of music.

A bit aloof from the rest of the apartments Angela stopped to knock on a door. It was silent for some moments and suddenly the Swiss started to doubt her intent.

“It’s open.”, a voice called from the other side of the door.

“Just wanted to check on you real quick.”, Angela explained herself, closing the door behind her.

Across from her couch Fareeha looked at her with raised eyebrows. She had curled up with a book under a blanket and seemed puzzled by Angela’s late visit.

“I’m fine.”, she said, blinking at the blond woman before her. Obviously she has been heavily caught in her book before so she needed some time to realize her surroundings.

_Genau wie früher! [7]_

Angela had to fight down a grin. Back when Fareeha was child and she a teen, she had loved exactly those moments and it seemed that it had not changed. She always have had to fight the urge to cuddle the Egyptian right away. Unfortunately, some things had changed. Angela was not some kind of friend anymore, but a professional doctor. She could not afford closer relationships to her patients, although it made her a bit lonely here at Overwatch. In the end it would be better for both sides, her colleagues and herself. At least she thought so.

“How’s the pain?”, Angela asked and stepped closer to the couch, while big brown eyes never left her watching.

“It’s fine if I’ve got distraction.”, Fareeha admitted. She put her book aside and stiffly sat up, what made her blanket slide and revealed her hoodie she was wearing. Just when she finally straightened, Angela’s cool hand touched her forehead and she blinked up to her questioning.

“Hmm, normal temperature.”, muttered Angela and was about to check Fareeha’s pulse. Just before she could reach for her wrist, the Egyptian pulled her hand away to reach for something under her hoodie. She pulled out a cooling pack.

“I got cold at some point.”, she said dryly, but amusement flickered in her eyes. Now it was Angela’s turn of blinking irritated.

_Natürlich. [8]_

Angela started to laugh out snorting.

“Good, you’re cooling it. That’s gut.”, she said when she caught herself again.

Fareeha smiled impishly. It relieved her to have made the doctor laugh after what had happened today. She was never good at not seeing Angela smile, so she made it her mission to make her laugh whenever she could.

Angela cleared her throat.

“Well, I’ll leave this pill with you.”, she said and placed a small white pill on the coffee table. “Take it, if you can’t bear the pain. Otherwise, you know how to contact me.”

With a last soft smile, she wished Fareeha a good night and disappeared through the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> [1] Korean: „You’re too old for this to understand!“
> 
> [2] German: counselling or spiritual guidance
> 
> [3] Swiss German: „This can’t be…!“
> 
> [4] German: „Fine.“
> 
> [5] Arab.: Shit!
> 
> [6] Arab.: „Just you wait!“
> 
> [7] German: Just like past days.
> 
> [8] German: Of course.


	2. Falling And Getting Back Up

The sun shone through the curtains and tickled her nose. She must have fallen asleep on the couch as her neck ached of stiffness. Yawning, she peeled out of her sheets and stretched herself delicately.

_Khayr Allah! [1]_

A sharp pain stung through her nerves and reminded Fareeha of her freshly stitched wound. She lifted her hoodie to look at her bandage. For a moment she thought about taking it off, but as she remembered the scheduled appointment with Angela, she was certain, that the doctor would seriously scold her for that. She scuffled over to her small kitchen instead and made herself some tea.

_Maybe I can have a quick run before I have to… Wait! I should talk to Khalil ‘bout his grounding._

The image of the panicked recruit popped up before her eyes. He was shot down in surprise by a remote controlled drone that was equipped with a load of explosives and crash landed. As far as Fareeha knew, the recent mission was not his first mission piloting a raptora-suit not for training purposes. Being grounded like this was a nightmare to all of her comrades, especially the first time. She knew this numbing fear, when one saw the ground speeding closer to oneself, knowing that this could be the last thing in one’s life to see. Life rushed by like a train in such moments. Exactly that has happened to Khalil. Even though the new generation of raptora-suits contained much better safety mechanisms and systems than Fareeha’s first suits, they did not change the psychological effects of accidents.

Leaning against her kitchen counter, she sipped on her tea and replayed her own first grounding. Back then, Fareeha was a member of a group of test pilots that should accomplish experience in real battle action. During test flights in the hangar nothing had happened until the day everything went bad. It was not her first real battle action either, but the first time her suit came under hard fire…

* * *

 _"Amari!”_ , the captain’s voice echoed across the drill ground. Instantly, Fareeha left the line of jogging soldiers and stepped closer to Captain Tarek.

 _“Sir!”_ , she saluted. He mirrored her salute before he began to speak.

 _“I need you for a mission, soldier. Looks like our rebellious friends are obstreperous again. I expect you at the hangar in two hours. Raptora.”_ , he briefed her shortly.

_“Understood, Sir!”_

Captain Tarek dismissed her with a nod. Fareeha directly headed to the machinery hall. Loading her guns and putting her suit on would take a while. Moreover, she wanted to spent some time on an at least a quick safety check.

Exactly two hours later, Fareeha stood in the hangar in full gear. Apart from her, two other test pilots were part of this mission. Captain Tarek sternly eyed all soldiers.

_“Soldiers. We received a message that the rebels are about to launch another attack on the AI. Our scouts have reported that they will be attacking from north-west. Moreover, they managed to get two or three small tanks. Raptora, you will heckle them from the air. Amari will stand in western flank, Al-Jaffar north, Nasri north west. Focus on tanks and areal damage.”_

More instructions were not necessary. The whole squad moved out by armoured vehicles and helicopters immediately. Everyone knew his exact position.

 _“Raptor 223 positioned.”_ , Fareeha reported as she found a spot in the dunes of the desert that gave her enough cover for so far. Then, the squad fell silent, waiting patiently for the rebel’s movement.

 _“Eye contact.”_ , the voice of a scout cracked through their communicators.

That was it. Fareeha started her engines with a throw of a small lever and shot into the air. A huge army of rebels spread below her. In fact, they had two tanks, armed with anti-aircraft missiles. Slightly groaning to herself, Fareeha admonished herself to be cautious and to keep moving at any cost. To her left, Al-Jaffar had already opened fire. Fareeha checked with a quick glance to her interface her distance to the closest tank. Then she opened her fire.

The machine guns that were attached to her shoulders rattled loudly and fired their ammunition mercilessly down onto the foot soldiers of the rebel front. The recoil set Fareeha’s teeth on edge but she kept firing. One of the tanks turned its head, aimed and shot its first missile.

 _“I got shot!”_ , screamed Nasri over his communicator.

In a quick succession, several commands were exchanged, until it was clear that Nasri could continue fighting on ground.

 _Alqaraf!_ , Fareeha cursed inwardly.

Although they could fight in their suits on ground as well, maneuvering this kind of armour in this area was risky. Due to their size and overall weight, these suits would enormously slow down the pilots. Fareeha flew another dive above the attackers. One more time, her machine guns screamed, one more time she let justice rain from above. She pressed another button and from her back another deadly weapon extended its head above hers.

 _“Taeal huna!”[2],_ she growled with gritted teeth, as she took target of the tank, rushing towards it.

In her mind, she sent out one last prayer and fired. The slender rocket chased out of its holder with a deafening roar of the acceleration, to speed to its target in a straight line. The enormous recoil visibly threw Fareeha back, although she kept her pace towards her aim. Its brute force yanked at her shoulders. Moments passed and the explosion of the tank enlightened the battlefield.

 _“Raptor 223. Hostile tank eliminated.”_ , Fareeha reported.

 _“Well done!”_ , Captain Tarek complimented her.

Fareeha pulled back on track and pushed the rebel front further back with her machine guns. Unfortunately, she had not noticed that her last action had damaged one of her guns. A loud bang shook her entire suit and she lost control of her right machine gun. It stayed loosely in its holder and kept firing in all directions. With difficulty Fareeha managed to stay in the air, but staggered like a cork on a lively water surface.

 _“What’s going on there!?”_ , Captain Tarek yelled.

_“My gun cut loose! Attempting to reject it.”_

Fareeha wildly hammered her controls, until a beefy jerk shook her. She first thought she could be relieved having been able to detach her gone wild gun but it was a great disillusion. Either her gun or the rebels had shot one of her engines. Panic spread in her. Fareeha growled with anger about the fact that her suit did not provide flexible arms that allowed her to reach for the gun. She gave it another try to reject the weapon. Again, her suit was shaken by a jerk but this time she succeeded.

_“WATCH OUT!”_

But it was too late. Her comrade’s anti-tank missile hit her still intact engine and set her fuel tank on fire. Warnings blinked on her interface like fireworks and yelled through her headset but she saw nothing but the solid ground speeding closer to her. A shot drilled through her shoulder, smashing the thin armour and her bones with an ugly sound of cracking and tore her muscle fibers. Fareeha screamed, at least she thought she did. The fire ate itself through her suit and sank its hot fangs deep into her skin. Metal melted into her flesh as if it wanted to fuse with her. Then everything turned black…

* * *

Fareeha grabbed her left shoulder. This accident had eaten itself deep into her memory, as well as the scars had, that she remained. It had taken her months and a great number of operations until she had gotten back to her feet. Since then, her bones of her shoulder, shins and partly of her feet were replaced by artificial titanium bones. The months of recovery in which her flesh and nerves learned to accept the new bones under pain had been a living hell, but it surely had not been as bad as the fear she had when she had been shot out of the air. Countless times she had woken from nightmares, soaked in her sweat and screaming like a maniac. The doctors and the heads of the raptora project had actually written Fareeha off but she had insisted upon returning to active status as raptora pilot.

_If Captain Tarek wouldn’t have been there put in a good word, I wouldn’t be here today._

The Egyptian closed her eyes for a moment and her hand wandered to a tiny scar at the back of her head and massaged it gently. After that incident, the scientists had decided to improve the suits by implanting a nano chip to their pilot’s brain stem. This chip had replaced the former control that had been integrated in the stiff arms of the old suit. By that the general control of had been massively improved and allowed new designs with which the pilots felt more comfortable with. The times of feeling pressed into one’s personal can of sardines had ended.

Fareeha wheezed.

“Well, that was it with the run.”, she said into the empty kitchen and placed her cup in the sink. A quick glance to the clock told her that she had not enough time for a proper breakfast, so she fished a bowl and her muesli out of a wall cupboard. It definitely was not comparable to her usual breakfast consisting of scrambled eggs, fried vegetables and some meat, but it was a good alternative if she had no time or simply was too lazy to cook.

After she had cleaned the dishes and had put on a fresh shirt, Fareeha heard a knock on the door. She opened a bit irritated.

“Kuma.”

“Captain! I, uh…”, the young soldier saluted.

“Speak.”, Fareeha said briskly as she stepped out of her quarters and closed the door behind her.

“I-I… You weren’t at the muster this morning… so I wanted to check on you, Cap –“

“I’m fine, Kuma. You probably don’t know that I don’t have to attend all musters of Helix since I joined Overwatch, so I condone your behavior this once. Still, I want to talk to you today. Dismissed.”

“Yes, Sir, hrm, Ma'am!”

Fareeha shortly eyeballed him and strode past him down the hallway.

 _Sir, Ma'am… I don’t care what you call me._ , she thought and snorted softly.

As she made her way to the Med Bay, she listened to her footsteps and planned her talk with Khalil Kuma. She wondered how to motivate him without scaring him too much by reminding him of his accident. That slightly anybody came up to her to talk to her on her way to the medical department pleased her. By that she had enough time to sort her thoughts until she announced herself at the reception.

“Please go to the treatment room. The doctor will see you in a minute.”, said the receptionist.

Fareeha nodded and walked down the hallway to Doctor Ziegler’s treatment room. She sat on the treatment couch and eyed the facilities, she already knew like the back of her hand with mild discomfort. Even in total darkness she would have known where to find what someone might have needed. Wrinkling her nose, she breathed the air that was saturated with the scent of disinfectant.

_Where is she?_

The Egyptian stared at the clock. Five past eight. Fareeha growled and looked for something to distract her a bit. Maybe she could already get out her medical file from the cupboard.

“I’m sorry, I’m late.”, said Angela as she swiftly entered the room.

Stifling a yawn she placed her steaming coffee mug on her desk, before she agitatedly scanned the tons files for Fareeha’s. She had to concentrate to read the labels correctly to avoid false notes in false files. Of course Angela could have used the digital file-system, but she preferred the traditional method.

“You had a night-shift?”, Fareeha asked and made her turn her head, blinking at her patient in surprise.

“Ah, not too bad.”, she answered delayed and eventually pulled out the file she was looking for.

If she had not skimmed through her recent notes, she would have seen the slightly amused smile on Fareeha’s lips. Angela knew she still wore the same lab coat she wore the other day, except that it looked raked after spending the night in her labs. The slightly dark rings underneath her eyes did not make it look better.

“Well, let’s see what we have here.”, the blonde cleared her throat and stepped closer to her patient.

She was a bit taken aback with what willingness Fareeha discarded her shirt, even though Angela had not yet asked her for it. A wave of tartly citrus scent flooded her senses. It was not a penetrating scent but strong enough for Angela to notice it. She caught herself imagining sticking her nose deep into the fabric of Fareeha’s shirt just to smell more of that wonderful scent. Obviously, she was more tired than expected as she was certain that she would have never allowed herself this idea if she had not spent the whole night working on her research without sleeping. Still she could not deny that she loved especially this scent.

“How’s the pain?”, she asked Fareeha and took off the bandage.

“It only hurts a bit while strechting.”, the Egyptian answered.

“Hmmm, ja, just what I expected.”, said Angela as she softly stroked the seam of the stitched wound with her fingertips.

Fareeha frowned skeptically.

“Oh, I take it that was another experiment of yours?”

Profound blue eyes faced her, in which she would have gladly read what was going on in the woman before her but she could not. It was this fascinating, mysterious gaze that the doctor always had when she acquired new knowledge.

“Well, I just let the sewing thread soak in a new nanobot base that improves the healing speed of traditional treatments and…”, the blonde carefully fumbled with the incredibly pale scar, “Reduces scarring to a minimum…”

Fareeha noticed that Angela drifted off to her researches and looked down on her with a doubting frown. She could not quite get the point of what made this little detail so fascinating. To her scars were a part of her life and she did not mind remaining them. Perhaps she would have thought differently about this situation, if she would have known the true reason for Angela’s fascination. Instead she audibly cleared her throat.

“So, I’m ready for missions again?”, Fareeha asked.

Angela slightly jumped, hearing the resonant voice of her patient and for a split second she guiltily looked up to her.

“Mission…? Oh, nein. Not for today, but you can work out again. Well, you should better not compete with Alexandra though.”, Angela said with a raised warning finger.

She knew that the two soldiers loved to compete in various sport disciplines, which was also one reason why Fareeha was a regular guest at the Med Bay. The thought of it made her sigh.

“Well, I don’t think I have time for that anyway, as my neck hurts and I still have another task to finish.”, Fareeha said matter of factly and unconsciously rubbed her neck. Just when the words had left her mouth she actually noticed what she had said. She did not want to look whiny or like a softie, so why did she say that?

However, Angela did not seem to notice the slight shade of red around the nose of the security chief. She simply told her to lie down on her stomach and before Fareeha could say knife, she felt Angela’s hands on her skin. With trained grasps, the blonde detected the stiffness and like magic she relaxed the muscles with kneading and circling movements. Fareeha unintentionally moaned in relieve and gave herself to the treatment. She loved massages, especially Angela’s. Although they were usually short ones, they still had a far greater effect on the Egyptian than mere muscular relaxation. It was a brief moment of complete relaxation, as if she floated on the surface of a silent lake on a summer day.

_Like flying…_

Angela noticed how her patient let go of any tension and a pleased smile tugged on her lips.

“You should thank Khalil. If he hadn’t told me to examine you closely, it could have turned out much worse for you.”, she said, as she worked on the broad shoulders of the soldier much longer than needed.

“What happened to your medical confidentiality, Doctor Ziegler?”, Fareeha murmured.

“Did I say anything about his medical status, Captain Amari?”, the Swiss countered and ended her massage with one last stroke over the shoulders.

The security chief sat up and reached for her shirt.

“I’m going to talk to him today.”, she said. A slight smile tugged on her lips.

Angela turned back to her file and nodded.

“Don’t be too harsh to him. He had good intentions.”, the doctor said casually, while she completed her notes.

“So, mercy shall guide my tongue?”, Fareeha thought aloud. It was an innocent question that she honestly took serious. When the Swiss just simply hummed in agreement, she quizzically glanced over to her.

_Did she even listen to me?_

Shrugging, she cleared her throat and took her leave. When the door closed with a soft click, Angela glanced up from her notes and reached for her coffee mug. Obviously her attention was very retarded today. She was sipping at her already tepid coffee and reflected her conversation with Fareeha, when she suddenly choked on her drink.

 _Mercy shall guide my tongue!? Nein, nein, she couldn’t have meant it that way. Oder… doch? [3] Stop it, Angela! You’re obviously a bit overtired…_ _I schwör bi Apollo de Heiler, bi Asclepius, bi Hygieia, bi Panacea, und vo allne Götter, macht sie züge, das ichs nach minere Fähigkeit und Beurteilig usfüere wird, de Schwur…[4]_

Angela heavily sighed and let her head drop onto the desk, ears burning hot and tinted crimson.

* * *

“Kuma!”

Immediately, the heads of the soldiers popped up from their card games to turn to their boss. Khalil rose from one of the tables to swiftly step closer to Fareeha.

“Come with me.”, she commanded in her usual harsh voice, she used to talk to her subordinates. They left the recreation room in silence. The small office of the security chief was situated halfway to the hangar and the gym. In comparison to other offices, the furnishing of this one was kept to a minimum. Overall, it was treated rather dilatory by its owner.

“Take a seat, Kuma.”, Fareeha said, pointing at the chair in front of her desk. She took a seat behind it in her swivel chair.

The recruit cleared his throat.

“Captain, I’m sorry for – “

The stern gaze of his superior made him fall silent. He nervously pressed his lips into a flat line and avoided to look her straight in the eye.

“You’re apologizing? What for?”, Fareeha asked and looked the young man over, like a falcon picking its prey.

Khalil lifted his gaze from the corner of the desk and met her eyes in confusion.

“For my insufficiency on the battlefield.”, he said hesitantly.

The Egyptian nodded deliberately and leaned back in her seat. She looked at him silently, thinking about how to start the conversation properly.

“You were shot out of the air, Kuma. You were lucky the drone didn’t blast your head off.”, she said dryly. “Believe me, there have been other well trained soldiers who were as helpless as you were, when similar things happened to them. If they survived.”

He gulped audibly and nodded.

“I understand, Captain.”

Fareeha doubted so and lifted an eyebrow.

“You’re not here for being sanctioned, Kuma.”

Her fingers softly thumped on the tabletop while she observed the recruit who seemed to fight his self-doubts. Again a tense silence filled the room.

_Mercy… Not an easy task._

She would have preferred to just drag Khalil to the hangar, stuff him into his suit and start the engines to make him fly. But she knew that this would have been risky for her and her recruit and it would have probably scared him to death, flying around with his Captain clinging onto him without armour.

Heavily breathing, Fareeha stood up from her chair and walked over to the window to look out. Her office was directly facing the labs close to the Med Bay. In the evenings, when she made her paperwork or was in here for any other reason, she liked to watch the ado of the scientists.

“I have to thank you, Kuma. You reminded me of having a function as leader and role-model. I can’t demand from my subordinates to take the medical exams and check-ups, if I don’t take them myself.”

In the reflection of the window, she could partly see the puzzled and slightly annoyed face of Khalil.

“But… Captain, you _are_ a role-model! To all of us! Everybody knows that you would _never_ leave anybody behind and therefore you stay in the field until the very last has headed to the safety-zone. You would catch a bullet for your squad and for civilians just to protect them. Just like you did with me.”, he answered upset.

Fareeha slowly turned to him. The man’s fist were clenched next to his thighs and trembled slightly. She had to bite down a smile. He reminded her of herself when she was still a child and Overwatch an official organization. Back then, her heart was filled with similar feelings of admiration for Reinhardt Wilhelm. But also for her mother.

Without further commenting on his words, she nodded and continued.

“I want you for the next mission. In your suit.”

Khalil promptly turned pale and the burning admiration in his eyes faded. Fareeha saw him shrink down onto his chair, shaken by rising panic.

“Captain?”, he croaked.

“You’ve understood me quite well, Kuma.”, she said with her clear, demure voice.

Khalil started to tremble even worse.

“I can’t.”

The way he said it was more comparable to a soft wind breeze than an actual answer.

“Yes, you will.”, the security chief persisted.

She strode around the table and grabbed him hard by his shoulder. Fareeha did not intent to shake him, but rather keeping him in the now and here. He stared at her with wide eyes that pleaded her to not put him back into that suit, but in her stern brown eyes he did not find mercy.

“I know what’s going on inside of you. If you’re not putting that suit on soon, I promise you won’t be flying ever again.”, she said insistently. Her eyes seemed to drill through Khalil’s directly into his soul to convince him.

“When was your first crash?”, he asked after a few moments of silence.

He asked so hesitantly, that Fareeha thought a little school boy had asked her. She took a deep breath and walked back to the window. Lost in her thoughts, she looked down to labs before she turned to lean against the windowsill.

“I can’t remember when I had my very first crash.”, she admitted. “Being a test pilot, you have plenty of them before you fly something reliable. But I can remember that crash that could’ve been my very last. I was about your age. I was flying my raptora suit during a simple mission against the rebel front. With today’s suits, it would’ve been very easy, but the suits we had back then, were comparable to D.Va’s mech suit.”

Khalil listened intently to each word as Fareeha told him about the day that deeply burned itself into her memory.

“It took me about a year to fully recover.”, she ended, glancing out of the window.

Silence spread through the room and the young recruit slowly nodded.

“But how did you manage to get back into your suit?”, he asked after a while.

“I started to ride my motorcycle whenever I could.”, she promptly said and Khalil grunted in surprise.

“I thought you were flying jets or something.”

“Riding a bike was more practical and was closer to the thrilling freedom you have flying a raptora. Well, not only that helped me, but also Robo Cop.”, she added.

During her recovery at the military hospital, she had enough time exploring the library that was connected to it. However, she found out quite fast that the books were not to liking, but the movies it offered. Among them, she found a treasure that reminded her of her reason for joining the army.

“Robo Cop?”, Khalil asked skeptically. He was not sure whether to laugh or to take his superior seriously, but still something about that caught his interest.

“A splendid movie. When it was shot, the whole story and technology was nothing more than a vision of what future could be like. Today, we seem to have awakened Robo Cop. You’re afraid of returning into your suit, Kuma? Think about this: Robo Cop had lost about 90 % of his human body and let himself being locked up in his artificial suit although he had fears and doubts, but he did it for his principles and duties.”

Khalil frowned upon her words and drifted off into deep thoughts. It seemed as if Fareeha’s words had hit a nerve within him, as the fear disappeared bit by bit. She observed him silently. He was thumping his chin absentmindedly as he recapitulated his lesson she had taught him. Then he stood up with a salute.

“Captain! When’s the next mission?”, he asked, his eyes burning of new hope and great acknowledgement for his superior.

“I will let you know, Kuma. Dismissed.”, Fareeha answered and allowed herself a slight smile of contentment.

As he was told, Khalil left the office. When the door fell shut behind him, the security chief sighed.

_I guess, Angela would be quite pleased with me…_

Lost in her thoughts again, she gazed out of her window. She did not want to admit it, but secretly she hoped to catch a glimpse of the blonde doctor. However, it was still too early for her to do her researches, so Fareeha drifted off further into distant thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> [1] Arab.: comparable to "Jesus Christ!“
> 
> [2] Arab.: "Come here!“ or "Come at me!“
> 
> [3] German: “Or did she?“
> 
> [4] Swiss German: "I swear by Apollo The Healer, by Asclepius, by Hygieia, by Panacea, and by all the Gods and Goddesses, making them my witnesses, that I will carry out, according to my ability and judgment, this oath…" (Hippocratic Oath: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hippocratic_Oath)
> 
> *Please feel free to leave your comments right here! They are all welcome ;)


	3. Cry, Baby, Cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long for this chapter but different issues kept me from writing and translating for quite a while. But now: Please enjoy!^^

On the basis of these results, nanobots can be applied to traditional medical treatment. Provided that a – 

“Does it really need to be a liquid?”, Angela sighed. 

She leaned back in her swivel chair and tore her hair while thoughtfully chewing on her pen. Still, she seemed to lack some information, although she had done so many experiments recently.

_Do I really always need some kind of fluid bridge? Either the treatment needs to be fluid or the object needs to be soaked in a nanobot base…_

She snuffled frustrated. Obviously, she needed to repeat some of her experiments. From a pile within the huge mess of papers around her, Angela fished a folder that was filled with loose notes. Before she would start another series of tests, she would scan her results again. There must have been something she missed. The folder on her lap, Angela flicked through blueprints, formulas and coffee stained notes.

_What’s this doing here?_

She frowned at the radiograph of one of her patients and held it against the light of her computer screen. Her eyes narrowed, as the doctor tried to identify the patient.

“Hah, that’s Reinhardt’s shoul – … Oh, no! Fareeha’s shoulder. There’s the serial number.”, she said.

As she looked at the radiograph, she somehow started to feel uneasy and pressed her lips into a tight line. Since her last time she had to stitch the Egyptian, an emotional havoc raged inside Angela. Why did she feel so much fear? After all, it was not the first time that Fareeha had returned from a mission with similar or even worse wounds. So why did it touch her so badly that she was about to burst into tears in front of her patient?

So far, she had managed to act strong but lately she started to struggle. On the one hand, Angela had to finish her report on her research. She still was a scientist, although she worked for “new” Overwatch. On the other hand, she had holed up in her laboratory to somewhat sort out her personal issues, she guessed. How long has she been here? One or two days, maybe? The doctor had lost her sense of time already.

Angela sighed and put the radiograph on top of another pile. She did not have time to think about it now. Probably she was simply stressed due to her research which made her more sensitive at the moment. However, something that her conscious mind eagerly wanted to suppress, knew that stress was not the reason for this, but Angela pushed this thought from her as far as she could.

“Sooo, where were those pictures…”

Anyone who might have seen her now, would have likely thought Angela was in a state of intoxication, due to the inhuman speed she showed flicking through her files. In fact, she was rather highly concentrated than anything else, which was why she did not notice the knock on the door. Just then when her visitor literally kicked against the metal door, she pricked her ears.

“Hey, Angie! Open up!”

“What you say, Jesse?”, Angela snapped back, as she got up to unlock the door to her lab.

“Please?”, Jesse answered with the sweetest voice he could muster.

With a slight hum the door slid open and Angela appeared in front of him with folded arms and a scolding glare.

“No, it’s Angela. Not Angie!”, she said slightly bugged.

He shrugged with a broad grin on his lips, as the American entered.

“My bad, sweetie.”, he said with a small laugh in his voice. Balancing a tablet on his right hand, he turned to Angela and handed it over.

“Thought you might like somethin’ to eat. My cute lil’ baby sister still needs to grow.”, Jesse explained with a wink and let himself fall into the doctor’s swivel chair.

Angela rolled her eyes.

“We’re the same age, Jesse.”, she said and put the tablet aside. “But that’s not the only reason you’re here, right?”

She skeptically eyeballed the laughing man. It was uncommon, almost a rarity for Jesse to visit her in her lab with a tablet of food, for which she was pretty sure there had to be more to his sudden visit. When he made himself more comfortable in the chair and reached for his box of cigars, Angela coughed with a scolding glare at him.

“Aw, come on, Angie!”, he sighed and put the box away. “Well, actually my prosthesis is somewhat makin’ fun of me. Mind to check it?”

Jesse lifted his left arm that winced and waved uncontrolled. 

 _At least, it doesn’t seem to be a malfunction of his hand again._ , Angela thought as she reached for her toolbox. 

The last time he had been here, his hand was acting as if it suffered of tourette syndrome. It had formed any kind of socially acceptable and inacceptable sign possible.

“Take off your shirt, please.”, she instructed him, while placing some screwdrivers on her desk. 

“Woooh, doc! You’re sure you can handle this manly breast of steel? I don’t wanna make you faint, darlin’.”, Jesse asked, a broad smirk splitting his lips.

“I’m a doctor, Jesse. I know what a man’s body looks like.”, she replied dryly.

A bit frustrated, Jesse sighed and pulled off his shirt.

“Angie, Angie. You once were up to that kind of jokes, I remember.”, he pouted.

“It was different back then.”, Angela mumbled.

She carefully fingered the metal arm to spot the source of its malfunction. The elbow of the artificial limb was fixed to the remaining bones and muscle tissues, so Jesse did not had to worry about losing his whole arm when he shot his gun. However, below his elbow he could detach his forearm if necessary. Just as Angela had thought, the malfunction was at the contact between the artificial joint and its limb.

“Why do I have the feelin’ that you have distanced yourself from us, Angela?”, Jesse asked her seriously, as she carefully tightened some screws.

She paused for a moment.

“As I said, Jesse: I’m a doctor. If something happens to anyone of you, I need to make decisions that may also affect your survival. I can’t do that, if I’m too close with my patients. Besides, my oath also forbids that.”

Jesse frowned and hummed thoughtfully.

“But what was different in the past? I mean, hey, we were somewhat a family. A strange one, yes, but a family.”

“I was young and had believed that everything will stay as it was. I never thought about what might happen if one of you died.”, Angela said.

Her voice sounded oddly hollow and Jesse could not quite believe her words. He mustered her earnestly.

“And why do I get the feelin’ that all this isn’t just a job matter? Somethin’ must have happened why you’re hidin’ in here for three days now. Are you plannin’ to stay in here for longer? You seem to throw yourself into work so you don’t have to think ‘bout somethin’ that bothers you.”, he kept on.

He seemed to have hit a nerve as Angela abruptly tossed her tools back into the case, her lips set into a flat line. Although she kept her indifferent and tired expression, a cool aura surrounded her and ice rose into her deep blue eyes.

“Is that so?”, she asked, a slight hiss of warning in her voice.

“Well, at least my impression.”, Jesse insisted. “Seemed to even had been avoiding us for quite a while, y’know. Thinkin’ ‘bout how professionally you patched me up after Fareeha’s arrival here, all cool, all distant and all… Naw, just what a lone ranger thinks, darlin’.”

He scratched his head and sighed. Although he really wanted to help Angela, he knew he could no help her if she did not want him to help. Her piercing look, dark and razor sharp like her scalpels said more than just that. His memories of the days in which they both talked carefree and had fun together, seemed like an old photograph that started to lose its colors. It was not always fun, Jesse remembered himself. There were also those days when Angela was haunted by dark memories and deep mourning. Then he had been there for his “sister” to hold her and take care of her. He knew the feeling of losing one’s parents, seeing them die right before one’s eyes. This may have been the reason why Jesse thought especially about her as family that gave him strength and shelter but for which he wanted to give the same.

_Where’s my lil’ sis? Where has she gone?_

He stood up with a soft wheeze and buttoned up his shirt.

“You need to eat, darlin’. You’re overworkin’ yourself and miss to treat you.”, his warm voice rumbled.

“Thanks, but I’m adult already.”, Angela snapped. 

Shaking his head, Jesse strode to the door but stopped in front of it, hesitating to open.

“No matter how much you deny it, Angela: There are people here that love you just as much as I do, if not even more than that. Don’t shut them out. I want you to be happy. I want you to receive all the good things you deserve to have in your life.”, he said seriously but his voice filled with warmth and love.

Angela stood at her desk, showing him her back. Her posture as she leaned over her files was stiff, making her appear like a statue of Atlas that carried a weight on her shoulders so heavy she threatened being crushed by it. Blue eyes were wide but they gazed into nothing present rather far away somewhere in space. Angela felt Jesse’s gaze on her back, still waiting at the door for her to react.

_Hau doch endli ab und lah mich allei! [1]_

She shuddered. Was it rage or was it fear that shook her? Clenching her jaws, her fingers rolled up into her palms until her nails dug into the soft flesh. She did not want to hear all that, did not want to be reminded of past days. What counted was the here and now, wasn’t it? For herself, Angela had decided to leave her past behind and do whatever she had to do. She had made an oath, she reminded herself. An oath she had been forgetting for far too long, making her vulnerable. The people around her must not be closer than regular patients, professional co-workers at the top limit but nothing more. 

_Control yourself! Don’t let them too close! You know what this did to you!_

Suddenly, unwanted pictures of her parents flashed up in her mind. Angela blinked furiously to let them disappear but instead new memories invaded her mind. The pool of deep red blood in which Ana laid when Widomaker’s bullet had kissed her. Jesse’s forearm that had hung half torn off from the rest of his arm. The last surgery almost ten years ago. Children she could not help anymore that died in their parents arms or hers…

“Angie…”

Angela jumped a little when she heard Jesse’s voice close behind her. She turned abruptly to him and in no second his broad chest to which he pulled her into an embrace was all she could see.

“It’s alright, sweetie. I’m here for you, we all are.”, he whispered into her ear.

He gently rubbed her back with his hand while holding her close. Over and over again he repeated his words as if to sooth a small child after waking up from a nightmare.

“Don’t try to control yourself. Believe me: I see how much you’re fightin’ with ya and that you’re fallin’ apart the more you try. I don’t want you to break, Angela. Yeah, maybe some distance is okay, I think, but you can’t throw away all your past with us, huh?” 

Angela felt a knot tightening in her throat. If Jesse had not had her caught in his arms already, she would have now reached for him and his hold. Something broke within her and she pressed her hot cheeks closer to his chest.

“At least, show your pretty face more often, Angel. We miss you up there.”, he whispered and felt the small shudders of the blonde as she gave in to her inner conflicts by time.

“Verflucht![2] Why? Why do you know what’s busying me?”, Angela asked, her voice trembling from fighting back tears.

Jesse softly laughed.

“As a big brother I should know what’s goin’ on with my lil’ sis, don’t ya think?”, he joked and promptly received a hard nudge of a fist to his ribcage.

“Same age.”, she hissed through clenched teeth, before she gave in to her tears and the warm embrace of her “brother” in uncontrollable sobs.

_Maybe, Jesse is right. No, he is right! I can’t erase my past… But… I’m afraid of what lies ahead._

* * *

The next morning came far too early. Reluctantly, Angela forced herself out of her bed and scuffled over to her bath. She blinked as the light of the lamp enlightened the small room. A woman appeared in the mirror before her. Her golden hair was a mess, as if a tornado had worked in it. Blue eyes were still wet and slightly red and swollen form her night of crying. Dark rings underneath her eyes looked even darker due to runny mascara and her pale complexion did nothing to improve her appearance. In short: Angela looked like a corpse that got steamrolled by a tractor. However, she noticed some kind of weight got lifted from her.

She did not know anymore for how long she sat on the floor with Jesse, curled up in his arms. Actually, she wanted to tell him what had happened within the past few years they have not seen each other, wanted to tell him about her fears, but all she had been able to was crying. Jesse did not even ask her any further. He just had hold her in his arms the whole time, just like he had done so whenever memories of her parents’ death had haunted her. Jesse had always been there to chase them away.

A smile crossed her lips.

_He’s still that teddy he has always been. Thank you, Jesse!_

Angela tossed some water in her face and began to make herself somewhat presentable for the day.

* * *

The big community kitchen was empty except for the person that sat at a small table in a dark corner at the very back of the room. Angela flipped on the switch and the harsh lights of the lamps flodded the kitchen. The person grumbled displeased.

“Turn the lights out, man!”

“Good morning, Jesse.”, greeted Angela as she poured herself some coffee in her mug.

Jesse was now far awake and hurried his feet of the table. A broad grin split his tired face.

“Hey, sis! You’re up early!”

Clutching the steaming mug in both of her hands, the Swiss sat next to the American at the table.

“Well, you know, about twenty years of changing shifts and emergency calls trained me to get along with less sleep.”, she explained with a soft laugh. “Jesse… Thank you. I’m glad you were there for me. The last few years, I think, I was just – “

Jesse cut her words off by shaking his head with a warm, still tired smile.

“No reason to thank me. I’m always here for you, sweetie.”, he said and squeezed her forearm lightly with his big hand.

Angela smiled at him thankfully.

Suddenly the door to the community kitchen swung open and the lively Brit entered laughing triumphantly about something. Fareeha was right behind her.

“I told ya, y’can’t beat m – ANGELA!”

With a grin so broad it must have hurt, Lena speeded over to Angela and pulled her into a tight hug, not bothering whether she was still soaked in her sweat or not.

“Oh, goodness, you’re back! Thought we lost ya down ‘ere! Did you make any process though?”, she bubbled curiously.

“Lena…”, Angela nearly choked on Lena’s hug and had to struggle not to spill her coffee all over the table and her lab coat.

Eventually, Fareeha joined them, her usual after workout drink in her hand. She dried her forehead from sweat with a towel that was draped over her broad shoulders.

“Oi, look, Fareeha! The doc is back! Now our ‘Flying Inferno’ is reunited!”, Lena laughed and nudged Fareeha with her elbow.

“The ‘Flying Inferno’?”, Angela asked irritated and glanced over to the Egyptian.

Fareeha stayed quiet and eyeballed Lena annoyed. Maybe she would have rolled her eyes but either she was good at hiding it or she just forced herself to not to. Obviously Fareeha did not know how to comment on that nickname.

Suddenly, the Brit blinked and released Angela from her hug.

“Oh! I almost forgot Winston! See ya!”

As fast as she had made her way to the table, as fast she left the community kitchen and the rest of the group. Fareeha’s gaze followed Lena until she disappeared behind the door, before the Egyptian turned her gaze upon Angela. The blonde noticed that the gaze was unreadable just like the moment she got caught in Lena’s hug and watched Fareeha joining them by the table. It was an irritating mix of indifference, high attention and… Angela was not sure if she was not mistaken but was that some sort of worry that she saw in that gaze?

Fareeha cleared her throat.

“Everythi – “

“Captain!”, Khalil’s voice cut her off.

“What’s the matter?”, Fareeha asked harshly and turned to the soldier.

He stepped closer to her and saluted.

“Helix wants to talk to you, Captain!”, he informed her.

His eyes somehow sparkled and his cheeks had a soft rosy touch, as Angela mustered him intently. She had to admit that she displeased it... a lot. Although she felt some kind of energy rising in her, she was scared the same moment she felt it.

_Since when are soldiers so eager that they almost seem to smile like a dork when informing their superiors? Only when they… Heh, heh, no. He doesn’t want to fuck her, doesn’t he?!_

Angela swiftly raised her mug to her lips in terms of hiding her thoughts from her surroundings and hoped no one noticed her sharp look.

“Thank you. I’ll be there in no time.”, Fareeha said and a small sigh escaped her.

She nodded towards Jesse and once again looked at Angela with her mysterious gaze, before she followed Khalil out of the community kitchen.

“Pff! Fuckin’ apple polisher!”, Jesse harrumphed, when they were both out of earshot. “Clingin’ to her heels like a fuckin’ mutt.”

Angela just hummed and thoughtfully stared after the young soldier.

“Don’t tell me you’re crushin’ on him.”, Jesse suddenly said as Angela did not reacted to his statement before.

She choked on her coffee with a snort.

“Me!?! Gott, you really need a coffee much more than I do!”

The American snorted with laughter and pounded his hand onto the table. Angela’s face was just too godly funny to not burst into laughter. Obviously, parts of his friend had returned.

“JESSE!”, the Swiss hissed and glared at him. “Especially you should know that I have pretty much like no interest in him, especially for such a… child.”

He stopped laughing and smirked at her.

“I know…”, he said. “But young lovers are said to be quite a hot ride, y’know what I mean? Oh, and I saw you hissin' at him just when he talked to Fareeha.”

“As if I – WHAT!?”

Surprised, Angela’s eyes went wide and she stared at Jesse. His smirk changed to a smutty broad grin that made her mad. Just how much she would have loved to spill her hot coffee over his face to wipe it off, but to her regret she had to admit that he was right… again. She had hissed at Khalil like a lioness defending her territory but she had hoped it would have kept unseen.

“Oh, yeah, you had. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes, sweetie.”

Angela huffed annoyed.

“Whatever you want to have seen, Jesse…”

He chuckled whole heartedly and had loved to continue his teasing but he decided to leave her be for now. Jesse was happy that the last night of sobbing and snot rags over his shirt showed first results. Angela seemed to open back up again and he would not stop helping her on that path until everything would be like in the old days.

“Huh, huh. Well… ‘t was kinda strange seein’ her scuddin’ through the sky without her better half.”, he sighed. “And it was hell you bein’ replaced by Ana for that time.”

“What’s so bad about Ana?”, Angela asked puzzled and Jesse glared at her.

“Y’know how fuckin’ great it is not to know when you get shot by a lovely bullet whether it kills you or heals you? Shoot you in the back, honey. Never good.”, he hissed.

Then he stood up and pointed at his butt.

“Each time right up the ass! Fuckin’ hurts the next mornin’!”

This time, Angela smirked.

“Oh, my, Jesse! Never knew you like it when your lovers take you from behi – “

“I DIDN’T MEAN IT THAT WAY!!!”, he protested enraged and slammed his hands onto the table.

When he glared at her she just snorted with laughter even harder. Although, soon his face split into a relieved smile and he draped his arm around her shoulders.

“Nice to have you back, Angie. Hope you let the others see that part of you again too.”, he said and smiled at her honestly.

Angela looked at him, the same relieved smile on her lips.

* * *

It was quiet at the Med Bay today, which was an exceptional case. Although, the receptionists and doctors noticed that Angela was rushing along the corridors again, no one mad a big fuzz about it. It was not an unusual thing for their senor fellow and doctor to disappear for a longer period of time in her labs. What every one noticed though, was her brilliant mood. Not that she was normally grumpy or harsh, this was never really the case, but she always kept some sort of polite distance that was somewhat sterile towards her subordinates and patients. Today though, she seemed to be more personal, more sincere than usual.

After her few cases during her consultation-hour, Angela decided to use the quiet time to sort and digitalize her files. Before she had left the community kitchen for work, she had to promise Jesse to not get even an inch close to her labs, which frustrated her now. She could have perfectly used this time for her research. However, she was somebody who kept her promises, so she could do nothing but catch up on her digital databank upon her patients.

Just when she reached for the first file to hack it into her computer, she heard a knock on the door.

“Come in.”

The door opened quietly and with an uneasy twitch around her lips, Fareeha entered the treatment room. Angela’s brows rose amazed.

“Fareeha?”

The Egyptian seated herself stiffly onto the treatment couch and eyeballed the doctor oddly. Angela noticed that Fareeha was grabbing her neck the whole time.

“What happened?”, the doctor asked and rose from her chair.

Her blue eyes wandered over the athletic body searching for any hints of injuries. As for Fareeha was her problem child, she was sure she would not tell her about all her injuries voluntarily.

“Headache.”, Fareeha growled and her face twisted painfully.

Angela stepped closer to her and was about to peer her patient’s neck. She guessed that Fareeha had strains from lifting something, but her patient backed away from her attempt to touch her.

“Don’t you have any painkillers for me?”, Fareeha asked huffy.

It took a moment for Angela to recover from her shocked staring. This was the first time she had seen Fareeha so gruff. 

“Well, it seems that your neck may be the cause for your pain. Let me look at it. Perhaps we don’t need any painkillers.”, she said, still a bit irritated.

Fareeha was not very pleased but eventually she let her hand sink into her lap reluctantly and waited for Angela to step behind the treatment couch. A moment later, she felt the practiced touch of Angela’s cool fingers that tried to relieve her.

“Hmm.”, said the doctor thoughtful frowning.

Her slender fingers did not find any misplaced vertebra or tensed muscles. They ghosted over the delicate curve from which Fareeha’s strong neck rose from her broad shoulders up to the subcranial area. Angela’s fingertips slightly brushed the small scar that hid underneath thick and silky black hair. Immediately both women froze. Fareeha tensed and stared in high alert at the facing wall.

“Does it have something to do with that nanochip, Fareeha?”, Angela asked hesitantly and she drew her hands back.

“How do you know about it?”, Fareeha nearly barked at the doctor but could not hide the panic in her voice completely.

“I, uhm – “

Angela bit her lip.

_Schiisse! [3]_

“It’s… A short note in my files. The military hospital handed me all of its medical files on you, when you arrived, so I was up to date.”

She was glad that she stood behind Fareeha. Like that the Egyptian could not see how pale she turned and the horror that crept up her spine causing goosebums on her skin. 

_Then it did have… Oh, mein Gott! Nein! [4]_

An uneasy silence stretched between them.

“Update.”, Fareeha explained after a while with an hollow voice. “I’m good with painkillers.”

She heard the rustling of Angela’s lab coat behind her, when she scrabbled about in her medicine cabinet. A moment later, a slender hand held a small package right in front of her nose.

“Three at maximum. Best with food servings.”, said Angela stiffly and flitted to her desk.

Fareeha nodded and put the drugs in the pocket of her leatherjacket.

“Thanks.”, she said equally stiff and inquiringly looked at Angela.

Something hung between them, but she could not put her finger on it. She had noticed it already this morning, not having missed the dark shadows underneath sparkling blue eyes and she had a feeling in her gut that the nightshift of the hard-working doctor was the source for them. Fareeha generally had a very good intuition but this time she was not sure if she saw ghosts.

“Ready for tomorrow’s mission?”, she asked and tried not to sound too harsh.

“Ja.”, Angela answered. A quick smile tugged her lips that should ensure Fareeha.

“Good”.”, Fareeha hummed and nodded.

Despite her skepticism she made do with this answer. Her headache was probably playing tricks on her. For a moment Fareeha stood awkwardly in the room and stared at the tips of her shoes. Somehow, she did not know why, she had the feeling to apologize for her moody temper although she knew that other patients were worse with Angela.

“Anything else I can do for you, Fareeha?”, Angela asked.

Her fingers nervously played with a paper clip while she mustered the Egyptian in concern. The longer she stayed in the same room with her, the more Angela felt uneasy but she forced herself to fulfill her duty as a doctor and tried to make out her patient’s status.

Fareeha blinked at her in surprise.

“No, everything’s fine… Hrm, see you tomorrow then.”, she stammered and exited her stiff posture.

When she had left the treatment room, Angela sank back in her chair, exhaling her breath she had kept the whole time and stared at the stack of files on her desk.

_Breathe! Breathe damn it!_

* * *

“Hey! Mind your performance!”, a voice said with a broad Russian accent.

Fareeha laid flat on the mat and looked at Aleksandra’s admonishing face. Sometimes she really asked herself if the Russian ever left the gym at all besides the times when she was called for missions. She sat up with a soft puff leaving her lips and reached for her bottle.

“Doesn’t look like you, Fareeha.”, noticed Aleksandra. “Everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s alright, Aleks.”, Fareeha answered curtly and fumbled out a pill.

Immediately she felt the strong grip around her wrist and heard the displeased click the Russian’s tongue. Growling, she snatched her wrist away from the grip.

“Headache.”, Fareeha explained and popped the pill between her teeth.

“Aaaah.”, said Aleksandra.

The tall woman sat next to Fareeha onto the mat. Actually, Fareeha did not have the nerve for a conversation but she did not mind some company and did not want to be impolite, so she stayed silent. Aleksandra eyeballed her friend.

_Never seen anyone having an headache?_

“Is that crash pilot of yours keeping you busy?”, the Russian asked.

Fareeha glared at her and nearly choked her bottle. If she was honest, Khalil did keep her busy in some way as he showed high commitment each day, but that was so since he had joined her squad. What bothered her more were her doubts about his next mission. Although it was her idea to put Khalil straight back into his suit she of course knew what could possibly go wrong and that she had no guarantee of how he would handle it. Tekhartha had not been pleased with her plan, as far as she could tell. In that point she could understand why Aleksandra had her aversions towards omnics. It was more than maddening if someone never showed any emotional reaction, not even the slightest twist in expressions.

But what too could make her mad, was the amused subtext of the Russian that indicated some romantic feelings between Fareeha and Khalil. Although the Egyptian knew it was not meant that way in any serious matter, she still was somewhat sensitive on that topic. She would never start a relationship with one of her subordinates. Also not with her superiors. She could list up a hundreds of reasons for that, but the most important one was that she simply had no interest in her mostly male comrades at all. 

Aleksandra winced a little and looked at her surprised.

“Oh, no reason killing me! Bozhe moy [5], you really must have an headache.”, she said, wiping away non-existent sweat from her forehead. “Or is it something else that bothers you?

Aleksandra tilted her head and mustered her questioning. This was the first time she saw Fareeha showing nerves. Of course she knew that even Fareeha was just a human but she was one of the few that seemed to have them almost perfectly under control.

Fareeha wheezed and waved aside.

“Nothing important.”

“Really?”, the Russian dug deeper. “I mean, since you’re back from Doctor Ziegler you seem… different.”

Fareeha's gaze darted towards Aleksandra who watched her in concern. Brown eyes searched for hidden mockery or some kind of sarcasm but found nothing than an honest question and concern. She let out a sigh and thought about where to start.

“Maybe I’m just seeing ghosts because of my headache.”, she said eventually.

Absentmindedly she gazed at the cap of her bottle. The whole time her thumb had been nervously playing with it and she was certain that her mother would have wacked it out of her hand just to stop that tic of hers.

“What ghosts?”, Aleksandra asked and intently looked at the serious profile of her friend.

“I don’t know.” Fareeha started. “Somehow I’ve got the feeling that she is hiding something from me.”

Aleksandra frowned.

“Doctor Ziegler? Keeping something from you? What?”

The thoughtful fumbling at the bottle cap died and Fareeha turned to her friend with a serious expression. Her gaze clearly said how much she disliked it when someone kept something from her, especially when it came to people she cared for. Aleksandra immediately knew that she would think twice whenever she was about to keep something from the Egyptian. Although she had never seen her angry nor ever have given her a reason for being angry with her, Aleksandra could imagine how furious an angry Fareeha would be.

“You know I had that crash years ago.”, the Egyptian said and Aleksandra just nodded.

It was one of the many stories they had shared during training. The scars and tattoos had caught the eye of the Russian soldier and it had proven to be a good starting point for getting to know each other more. Over time they had developed a solid friendship.

“The suits improved after that. One part of it was implanting a nanochip to all pilots brains.”, Fareeha explained. “This is also the reason for my headache. My control software got updated today.”

She scratched the back of her head and glanced over to her friend who listened intently. The bulky woman had crossed her arms in front of her and had propped her chin on top of her fist.

“Well, I never told her that I had it but after she didn’t find any physical reason for my headache, she asked if that could be the cause.”, Fareeha continued. “When I asked her how she knew about it, she said there would be a note on it in her files.”

“Maybe it really is mentioned in this file.”, Aleksandra said and thoughtfully rubbed her chin. “Doctors should be well informed on their patients. They should at least. So why shouldn’t it be in the file?”

Fareeha shook her head.

“Somehow I can’t believe it. She found the scar right away and seemed to freeze the moment she touched it. And… she was very short on words after that.”

The Egyptian stared at her tips of her shoes, lost in her thoughts. She was certain that something did not fit the picture.

“You think it was her you saw in your dream back then?”, Aleksandra asked after some time.

Fareeha blinked in surprise and looked at her.

“No. This can’t be, even though… Aleks, I’ve only seen a blurred image of a person. Yes, she was blonde, but it was a dream. She wasn’t even in the country.”

“How do you know?”

“I… Never mind.”

Fareeha sighed and shook her head. Sometimes she could not understand the Russian. What in God’s name should be the connection of her dream she had back then to her situation now? It was surprising that she could remember it anyway. Usually she could not remember her dreams, which was the complete contrary to Aleksandra. The Russian seemed to have a memory like an elephant when it came up to her dreams and somehow managed to explain everything that happened in life by them. At times it even made sense to Fareeha.

“Who knows…”, Aleksandra said and shrugged. “Maybe it was your guardian angel or someone from your former li –“

“Aleks!”, Fareeha groaned and her friend burst out into laughter.

_Now she’s definitely exaggerating!_

Before Aleksandra got lost in more absurd theories, she stood up and made her way to the door. A big hand slapped her back in a friendly manner and Fareeha gave her best friend a punch into her side to silence her before she even started again. She was sure that there was more to Angela’s behavior but she would think about it later.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations  
> [1] Swiss German: "Just go already and leave me alone!"
> 
> [2] German/Swiss German: "Damn!"
> 
> [3] Swiss German: "Shit!"
> 
> [4] German:"Oh, my god! No!"
> 
> [5] Russian: "My god!"


	4. Oh, Captain, My Captain!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya folks! Well, I must admit that I had some trouble writing this chapter due to work and the focus of it, but as my grandmother really wanted to know more about a certain character (yeah, my grandmother reads this fanfiction too xD), I thought it would fit in quite well at this point. Never thought about this character to become that important... oh, well. *shrugs* 
> 
> Anyway, start reading and find out who I'm talking about right now ;) Oh! And Merry Christmas to y'all! ^^
> 
> P.S.: I hope this chapter is not too messed up "^^ Kinda have a problem with third and forth chapters in general :/

As soon as his alarm rang, he was already awake. His hand easily fell upon the button to turn off the device and he opened his eyes. A smile playfully tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“A new day!”, Khalil said to himself.

Since he had been assigned to the new unit, nothing seemed to deceive his sense of delight. How long had he been working for exactly this to be finally member of the Raptora unit? Even in military school, he was dreaming of this. The stories that were told about those courageous pilots fascinated him and back then had given him a reason to leave his crooked paths and false friends. But the most important reason had been a young recruit who had given his class a lecture about the profession of being a raptora-pilot.

He remembered it as if it was yesterday. It had almost been a coincidence that he and his friends had attended that lesson, but their headmaster had made the importance of their attendance to this date more than clear. Who missed would receive a devilish punishment and would be expelled by the end of the year, if they did not decide to stay within the school’s properties 24/7 for the rest of the year instead. Electronic foot cuffs would make sure to know his position exactly the whole time… 

* * *

_“Jaban![1]”_ , Murat hissed und gave Khalil a punch in the gut. _“As if the old fart would really expel us. And if he would do so: We still have our business runnin’, shaqiq. We don’t need this fuckin’ school! Man, we gonna be rich, Khalil, you feel me?”_

Khalil gasped for air as he held his stomach.

 _“Murat.”_ , he groaned pained, _“No kidding, I think this time he means it.”_

Usually he did not give much to the threats and warnings of their headmaster, but the recent one somehow gave him the feeling that it would not be wise not ignore it as they did with the past ones. Even the imagination of being the water-boy for everyone and everything for the rest of the year, but not knowing the real punishment or spending every minute of his daily life in school made Khalil shudder. He would rather spend one morning on this special lecture day than that and if he was honest to himself, part of him was seriously curious for it.

_Raptora pilots…_

He did not know much about this new technology, but he had seen pictures in magazines or on posters of soldiers in flying armor when he could secretly steal them during the deals with Murat’s gang. At home he loved to look at them and those showing jets for hours. When he would fall asleep, he mostly dreamed of becoming a supersonic jet pilot, speeding through the skies, but as soon as he would wake up reality knocked on his mental door, reminding him that his past delicts may have ruined his dream before he even had a chance to live it. Khalil knew, he could not become a jet pilot anymore, but doing the same stupid mistakes as his friends was the only way to be with them. These friends of him, who always got him out of trouble after they had brought him into it. These friends, who did not understand why he wanted to become a pilot and who did not believe that their luck could have ended now.

 _“Hey, Murat.”_ , Hussein, a member of the gang, said and tapped their leader’s shoulder. _“Just let this jaban be. He can go to school like all the other pussies. More bucks for us.”_

He merely managed his suggestion when he sank to his knees and grunted in pain. Murat had punched him too and looked down on him with pure displeasure.

 _“Since when are you the one to make orders, al’ahmaq[2]?”,_ Murat yelled at him.

Hussein crawled away from him, muttering apologies over apologies. No one ever wanted to argue with Murat, as everyone had met his fists at least once. His word made the law within the gang and within their territory and whoever disagreed with him could be found the next morning at latest still kissing the asphalt or sipping soup, the only food one could possibly eat then.

 _“So. You really think that old ass is serious?”_ , he asked Khalil.

He simply nodded.

_“Hmmm”_

Murat was in deep thought.

 _Please._ , Khalil pleaded silently as he watched his friend intently.

 _“Naw, we can check out that shit once, I guess. Otherwise”_ , Murat took out some fireworks and joints with a devilish smirk, _“Otherwise, we’ll get this party startin’.”_

He whistled briskly and nodded towards the school buildings.

_“Let’s go! Time to those nerds how we party!”_

Khalil waited until the rest was headed a few steps ahead of him to join them. A slight smile flashed across his features, but he tried hard to suppress it. 

* * *

There was an excited whisper and chatter in the classroom. The teacher was not present yet, so the students took the opportunity to prolong their break. Khalil briefly scanned the room. In the back of it were three chairs arranged in a neat row. Thoughtfully, he narrowed his eyes.

_Looks like more than one visitor…_

Shrugging, he went for one of the empty seats in the front to sit and wait. The gang had sent him to get them some seats, as they seemed to enjoy a ‘good smoke’ as they called it or perhaps wanted to set up a plan to disturb the lecture.

_Hopefully, they don’t cause a chaos again…_

The classroom door opened and their teacher entered the room, a soldier, a man who seemed to be some kind of doctor and their headmaster in tow. The lively chatter stopped immediately and Khalil’s co-students hurried to their seats. For a moment the adults continued their muted conversation, till the headmaster guided his guests to the seats in the back.

 _Alqaraf! Where are those idiots?!_ , Khalil thought panicked when the stern gaze of his headmaster focused on him for a brief seconds.

He had to gulp nervously.

 _“Good Morning!”_ , the teacher greeted his class. _“As announced we welcome two guests, who will give us a look inside their professions. Please welcome Lieutenant Fareeha Amari from the military cooperation of Helix Securities.”_

A curious whisper ran through the class as the soldier walked with heavy and steady steps towards the blackboard. Her gaze was determined, her gait militarily jagged and filled with pride. As she arrived at the front, she greeted the class with a brief salute and built herself up to her full size.

 _“Fareeha Amari, Second Lieutenant of the Raptora Division and Airman First Class of the Raptora squad ‘Falcon’.”_ , she introduced herself formally.

Some sounds of awe could be heard among the students and even Khalil’s attention was catched by the soldier. Respect radiated from her that even silenced the most exceptionally gifted chatterboxes, which impressed Khalil, as no teacher had ever managed so far.

_Wow!_

He obviously was not in the position to judge whether she was good or bad at her profession, but to him she embodied all military ideals he had heard of or believed they were. While in most documentaries Khalil had watched on TV those jagged and stiff gestures looked far too over done or somewhat faux on the featured soldiers, she appeared different. It seemed that all this was as natural to her as breathing.

Khalil pushed himself further to the front of his seat and mustered her intently. She wore a dark blue uniform that seemed to be made for this kind of occasions as it looked too fancy for the trench or the battlefield. Her badges on her shoulders and sleeves shimmered in gold and silvery white. His gaze halted at her tattoo underneath her right eye.

 _The Eye of Horus… Does it have something to do with her squad?_ , Khalil mused. _Must’ve hurt for sure to get it…_

The determined voice of the Lieutenant brought him back to the present, as she started her lecture. Excitedly, the students listened to every word she spoke and Khalil could not prevent his growing smile.

_“In other words: Raptora pilots are the more agile jets, however not the range of supersonic speed though.”_

His eyes lit up.

_More agile than a jet and almost as fast! How it must feel like to speed through the air like this? Incredible…_

Fareeha Amari turned to the blackboard and made a rough sketch of the most important components of a raptora suit. It was easy for Khalil to see the similarities between these suits and a traditional jet. Just then when she wanted to point out more details to some parts of the suit she was interrupted by a loud bang as the door was kicked open.

_“Whoooo, have ya seen that, man?”_

_“Cool shit, man! Cool shit!”_

Murat and the gang shuffled dribbling and laughing into the classroom. All gazes were drawn to them but they did not bother neither the harsh look of their headmaster nor the sharp but indifferent look of the Lieutenant. Instead, they kept on being noisy and making fun of things that seemed to have happened before until Murat caught Khalil’s gaze and ordered his friends to follow him to join their gang member. Khalil’s heart sank and he felt sick when they shuffled towards him.

_Oh, no!_

But before they could make half their way, Lieutenant Amari stood in their way. It was unnecessary for her to even cross her arms in front of her chest, for her presence alone and her military attitude commanded enough respect. The gang members seemed definitely impressed and turned silent after a moment of irritation. Except for Murat.

 _“Ey, what the fuck?!”,_ he hissed. _“Outta my way, man!”_

Bugged, he tried to roughly push the tall woman aside, but she stood steady like a wall and eyeballed him silently. The whole class was filled with a tense silence.

 _“I said outta my way, alkuba![3]”,_ Murat growled and hauled for a punch.

Without even blinking, Fareeha Amari caught his punch with her big hand and turned his fist with lightning speed so she forced him into an arm lock. The impertinent boy – a teen better to say with his almost sixteen years of age – furiously waved about with his free arm to somehow place a punch but that only caused even more pain he already had due to the arm lock. He so had no other option than to follow the soldier who silently walked up to Khalil, grabbed a chair and carried it to the lectern.

 _“Take a seat!”_ , the Lieutenant said briskly, as she placed the chair in front of the lectern, facing the class.

She let go of Murat, who snarled incomprehensibly and rubbed his wrist. His eyes glared at her in anger and he did not show any intention to follow her order. Fareeha Amari simply looked back at him with steely eyes. It was a silent fight between the two of them but as the moments passed Murat winced and obediently did as he was told… 

* * *

_She already had that aura back then._

Meanwhile, Khalil had changed into his jogging gear. A quick glance at his watch told him that it was a quarter to six. His typical time for his daily jog around the area.

_Maybe I can still catch her…_

Stepped out of his quarters and hurried for the fastest way out of the building. There was still a slight chill of the night hanging in the air as he reached the square of the base. The place was empty except for some of his comrades who either were about to end or start their shift. He greeted one of them with a slight nod as he jogged past them and turned for the woods.

Along the trail he followed he flushed some hares and other small animals. He was alone. Alone with himself and his thoughts. Only his breath, his steady pace and his pulse accompanied him.

After some time he looked around, as if he was looking for something.

_Did I take a wrong turn?_

Khalil slowed his pace until he stopped eventually. 06:20 AM. Usually his and the route of the security chief would cross but there was no hint of her today. Where was she?

_Is her injury that bad? Alqaraf! You should have been more careful, you idiot!_

He kicked a stone with all his strength into the bushes in his despair. How could he not have noticed the load of explosives on top of the drone? The camouflage of it was more than poor, if not to say inexistent. Yes, he had been busy making tactical eye contact with his Captain but still, he should have noticed at least the drone.

Harrumphing, Khalil retreated to his jog. He ran faster than he intended to, as if he could run away from yesterday’s memories. But this was impossible.

_I should have at least seen that lardass with his fucking hook!_

Named “lardass” was also known by the name of Roadhog, who usually appeared with his partner in crime and mad firebug Junkrat. Next time, he swore, he would kill him before he could even touch his hook. Khalil would pay his debts that he owned to his Captain. Now he was more than willing to keep her back free. 

* * *

After a quick shower, it was time for him and his comrades to attend their daily briefing with Helix. The Colonel and a scientist, who were installed at the secret Overwatch base in Gibralta as a human joint to Helix Securities, were already waiting for them. As usual, the recent mission was summarized to measure its success, but Khalil did not pay much attention to it. The last mission was his first under Captain Fareeha Amari and the secret cooperation between Helix and Overwatch, so he was wondering where she was, as he recalled her being attendant the last few briefings after his arrival.

_Why isn’t she here? The colonel didn’t say a word to this… Or did she received a punishment because of me… Perhaps… I should look after her!_

Nervously, he started to furiously bounce his leg up and down.

_No, you can’t do that! She’s your supervisor, your Captain! What would it look like if I walk up to her office, knocking at her door… Is she even there? Maybe she’s at her quarters… or… at the MedBay. Allah, no! Don’t let her be there!_

He was in such deep thought he almost missed the end of the briefing. Mechanically he stood up and followed his comrades. As usual they were heading for the gym to catch up their workout routine. Some chats started the further away they got from the meeting room, but Khalil was still silent and caught in his thoughts.

“Hey, where are you going?”, one of the soldiers suddenly asked him, when he did not take a turn he should if he wanted to go to the gym.

“Oh, I…”, Khalil stuttered and thought about a suitable explanation.

_Right!_

“I forgot my watch at my quarters.”, he said, before he hurried down the hallway.

Of course he did not forget his watch but he took the chance for a detour to the other quarters of the base. As the employees of Helix were not seen as fix members of Overwatch, their quarters were situated in a different part of the complex. However, the gym and most of the meeting rooms were on this level they were now and so where the quarters of the “official” Overwatch members.

_Just to be sure…_

Khalil took a halt in front of a door. The ID number of his Captain was embossed in a simple metal doorplate. He lifted his hand as if to knock and gulped.

_That’s silly!_

Yet, he knocked. Nothing happened and he thought it would be wise to take his leave now, but suddenly the door was jerked open.

“Kuma.”

“Captain! I, uh…”, the young soldier saluted.

“Speak.”, Fareeha said briskly as she stepped out of her quarters and closed the door behind her.

“I-I…”, he stammered and palm faced himself inwardly.

“You weren’t at the muster this morning… so I wanted to check on you, Cap –“

“I’m fine, Kuma. You probably don’t know that I don’t have to attend all musters of Helix since I joined Overwatch, so I condone your behavior this once. Still, I want to talk to you today. Dismissed.”

“Yes, Sir, hrm, Ma’am!”

Fareeha shortly eyeballed him and strode past him down the hallway.

Khalil in the hallway and his gaze followed her for a while. She seemed no different than all the other days, a straight posture, the respectful air around her and the professional distance… And still he worried for her. Unsure what to do he stepped from one foot to the other.

_Don’t do it, Khalil!_

He turned in the opposite direction and took a few steps back to where he came from, just to make up his mind halfway and turn back again. It truly was silly, but he felt the urge to know where Captain Amari was heading. In some distance before him, he saw the strong back of his supervisor who did not seem to notice him.

_Careful…_

Khalil kept the distance between them and made sure to have his steps in line of hers. Tracking would have been easier in terms of noise if the hallway would have been more crowded but on the other hand, the risk of losing his track on his target was lower now. She took a turn, so did he and he saw the illuminated letters of the MedBay sign. When the glass doors slide open, he stopped.

_Enough, Khalil! Take your leave. You know where she is now._ _Don’t be so curious._

“Nä, ich brauche… Der andere Ordner… MedBay, moll.“[4], he heard a female voice behind him.

Doctor Ziegler strode past him, talking to someone on her phone. She did not notice the young recruit, who reached out his arm to get her attention.

 _Perhaps it’s better that way…_ , Khalil thought and decided to go back to his comrades. 

* * *

The hallway lay silent and only illuminated by the soft moonlight before him. His heavy steps resounded form the walls, as well as the occasional clicking sound of his dog tags hitting against each other.

“Oh, Kuma?”

His comrade turned to him in surprise.

“What’s the matter?”

“We swap.”, Khalil said. “You’ll take my wing.”

The soldier frowned, which was hard to see within the semidarkness of the hallway.

“Why?”

Khalil shrugged.

“Don’t know. Colonel’s order.”

Without any further questions, his colleague saluted with a shrug and transferred his job to Khalil. According to the etiquette Khalil responded with a salute himself and took his place. He watched the other soldier walk away in the corner of his eye. A faint, sly grin tugged on his lips.

_What a model of a soldier._

He cleared his throat and walked down the hallway the opposite direction. It was a miracle that no one had noticed his doings of making sure to get the same night shifts as Captain Amari. Also the fact that his morning jogs on her trail were yet unnoticed. He definitely must be kissed by fortune.

_Heh, that’s almost too easy! But like that she’ll notice for sure how useful I am to her, how irreplaceable… She’ll be proud of me!_

Khalil took a turn. Narrow streaks of light penetrated through the gaps of some doors and the floor into the hallway. Obviously the saying that Overwatch never sleeps was true.

Suddenly a door opened and Captain Amari stepped out of it.

“Understood, Commander!”, she said into the room and saluted.

She wore her usual working uniform, her rifle rested against her shoulder. Despite the bad lighting, she must have noticed a movement in the corner of her eye, as she turned to the young recruit without hesitation.

“Kuma, what are you doing here?”, she asked curtly.

Khalil saluted.

“I’m replacing Aziz. He had to think twice about his supper, Ma’am.”, he answered.

Silently, Fareeha mustered the man.

 _He is very motivated for sure…,_ she thought. _Of course he wants to make up for his error on his last mission… Guess it’s time for him to fly again. Better now than later. I don’t care how Zenyatta thinks about it._

“Aziz should go to the MedBay if he doesn’t feel better by tomorrow. You’re coming with me, Kuma.”

She turned and Khalil took up her pace. He was curious, what business she had to do in the Commander’s office. However, he knew that he was in no position to just ask her, although he was certain that she would tell him if he did. Still… she had told him about her accident, she had told him about her hard time after that. This had to mean something.

“How are you feeling, Kuma?”, Fareeha asked casually, as they passed another corner that led them to the laboratories.

“I’m fine, Captain.”, Khalil answered enthusiastically and the woman next to him hummed an approval.

“I need you for a mission the day after tomorrow.”, she said with her usual professional voice.

“Understood, Captain!”, he responded and had to fight down the joy in his voice.

This was what he had been waiting for! With this his careful preparations of the last days would pay off.

_She starts trust me! Very good, Khalil! Maybe I don’t need my little helpers soon to be close to her… She’ll see that she can trust me no matter what!_

They passed the closed doors of the laboratories, when Fareeha suddenly stopped. Her halt was so abrupt that Khalil had to walk back a few steps. He had his rifle ready to shoot as he watched his Captain.

“Captain?”

“Sssh!”, she hushed and motioned him to be quiet.

Her forehead showed a frown as she leaned close to the door and perked her ears. Khalil his ears too but could not hear anything. The hallway was quiet, without any sign of danger. What had Captain Amari heard?

He saw that her face darkened and that she clenched her jaws. Khalil did not understand the whole situation, until he suddenly heard a muffled sob behind the door. He never really liked the laboratories. Could it be that someone was kept in this room against their will?

Carefully, the young man stepped closer to the door and was about to enter the master code into to the touchscreen to open the door, but he was stopped by the strong grip of his Captain.

“Everything’s alright. Move.”, she said in a low and determined voice.

Khalil was confused. First the suddenly stopped and then she changed her mind that everything was alright? But did not she hear the same sobbing as he did? He glanced over to the doorplate.

 _AZ39/20_ , he read. _Isn’t this the lab of –_

“Kuma!”

The brisk order brought him back to the present and he hurried to catch up the distance between him and the woman who had already continued her patrol. With a few long strodes he was back at her side. Fareeha’s profile did not show any reactions to what they had heard before, as if it did not even happen. However her eyes seemed to glance back to the door for a few seconds. Something or someone must have been in this laboratory and seemed to keep the Captain’s mind busy. Perhaps, Khalil just read too much into her behavior though… 

* * *

“How do you feel about it?”, Tekharta Zenyatta asked.

The omnic was cross-egged floating in total relaxation beside the couch on which his patient was lying.

“I don’t know.”, Khalil answered. “But if I don’t do it, I can pack my things and leave.”

“What makes you so sure that you’d be sent back home?”

The young man frowned irritated and looked at the omnic monk.

“Well, because Helix has a similar structure as the military? People who don’t spurt or deliver can go home.”

He sighed heavily.

“If I had to leave now… All of this was all I ever wanted.”

“Tell me”, Zenyatta said softly, “about your reasons for choosing this career.”

Khalil held his breath for a moment and kneaded his hands. This caught his off guard. Why was he asking that?

“I… This could take some time.”

“We have all the time you need.”, Zenyatta encouraged him.

Khalil looked at him slightly skeptical but eventually he cleared his throat and sat up.

“Where do I start… My mother raised me all by herself. She never talked much about my father though, but what she had once told me is that he was a fighter, a warrior and that I have lots of his looks. I guess he died during the crisis.”

He laughed nervously.

“I never was a good son. Always got into trouble, sometimes real bad trouble and changed schools quite often just to get expelled from the next one too. I wasn’t interested in the stuff they taught us, but jets… they caught my full attention! Since I was little, I knew what I wanna be: A jet pilot! I told my mother about it at some point. She started crying.”

“Maybe she was scared to lose you like your father.”, the monk guessed, but Khalil shook his head.

“No, she wasn’t. She told me that it was stupid dreaming of becoming a pilot as I was nothing more than a troublemaker. A good for nothing.”

“What did that do to you?”

“I was angry! More than that. Fury!”, Khalil snarled.

Zenyatta watched him intently, noticing the fists he made and his working jaws.

“You were angry. What have you done against it?”

A bitter smile flashed across the man’s face.

“I hit the streets. There were some guys out there. I started a fight with them to blow off steam. They were stronger than me though and kicked the shit out of me. Could have died then, but fortunately Murat showed up and saved my ass.”

“Who is Murat?”

“He… my friend. First he saved me, then he offered me his friendship, although he called it protection but he meant the other as time went by. We even went to the same school, which I didn’t notice before. We spent more and more time together and one day I was a part of his gang. His right hand to be more precise. We sold and stole everything but mostly drugs. At some point we became too sure of ourselves. The school’s restrooms were our little shop to make money. However, we didn’t pay enough attention to our surroundings and were caught. In our panic we tried to drown the drugs right there but it didn’t work. So we added some chemicals we had stolen from the school’s chemistry labs and the whole thing blew up. There wasn’t much left of the restroom…”

Khalil laughed at that memory. It still was funny remembering his friends face, although he knew it could have ended pretty bad.

“What happened next?”

“We got expelled, again. This time we were sent to a military school for re-education and stuff.”

“What did your mother say to this?”, Zenyatta asked.

Khalil gulped and focused on a point at the wall. It was quite some time that he had talked about his mother for that long.

“She… She refused to talk to me since then. I don’t know where she lives, how she’s doing today or even if she’s…”

The young man kept his trail of thoughts unfinished and huffed, his jaws worked again.

“You were casted out?”

Khalil nodded. His eyes started to burn and he felt a tight knot in his throat.

“I will never forget her ice cold eyes when she saw me at the preventive custody.”

Silence spread over the room. Zenyatta decided to give him a moment to relax and breathe before asking his next question. The omnic also used the time to add the recent information to his mental protocol.

“How was your time at the military school then?”

Khalil jumped a bit as he heard the soft though still robotic voice. He turned his head and looked into the ever same face of the monk.

“We continued our business, but we… I became more and more careful. The gang gained more power in the underground but still the day where we reached a dead end came. Our headmaster gave us an ultimatum. Either we attended a special lecture day of the military or we would end somewhere on the streets without the option of getting a normal job. Murat of course didn’t give it much credit, but I felt that this really was no game at all.”

“What was your decision? Have you tried to convince Murat?”

“Somewhat, but he just laughed it off at first. I told him my concerns and eventually he gave it at least a try to take it serious. I was attendant. Well, because… There should be a guest lecturing about raptora pilots.”

Khalil’s green eyes were sparkling. The dark clouds they had before had vanished the moment he spoke about the raptora pilots. Zenyatta added that to his protocol.

“They’re just like jet pilots, but just more awesome! This lecture day was also the day I first met Captain Amari. Oh, Lord, she had given Murat a chewing out back then! No one ever had enough guts to do that until then. Haha, he even shed a tear! You know, she used an arm lock on him and made him sit in front of the lectern facing the class but always in her sight, so he couldn’t mess around.”

Again he was shaken by laughter.

“Did it amuse you the same back then?”

“Honestly? Yes. This woman… She was already mind-boggling back then! The way she asserted herself… Murat was deadly angry being toyed with like that already but the fact that it was a woman who did that was a blow below his belt of pride. And then she was and still is so…”

His trailed off just as his eyes did and a dreamy smile split his lips. This did not go unnoticed by Zenyatta, who silently added this to his notes too.

 _I sense a strong emotional connection to Fareeha Amari… I should talk to Dr. Ziegler about this. Perhaps it’s an effect due to his recent shock._ , the omnic thought.

“I later signed up for the military then.”, Khalil continued. “This day had reminded me of what I actually wanted to be my whole life since then. A jet pilot. Well, I didn’t become that, but much better: I became a raptora pilot. Guess this day has saved me from running further into the dark so to say. Murat and I had a fight after he found out that I signed in. Also he was expelled for the last time in his life.”

Zenyatta made an irritated sound.

“For the last time? How do you know?”

“This school already was our final chance and he messed it up. Well, he had the future our headmaster had predicted. I know that, because I’m part of it. The last time I saw Murat was during a mission… I gave him – how do you say rasasar alrrahma – the last kiss good-bye with my bullet.”

They kept silent. Zenyatta put his fingertips together and hummed softly to himself.

“I think, we should leave it here, Mr. Kuma. Except you still have something on your mind that you want to tell me now.”, he suggested.

Khalil shook his head.

_Nothing he would understand._

The young man rose from the couch and left the room. It was already dawning and the first lights burned behind the windows of his comrades quarters that he could see from this wing. Tomorrow he would fly again. Tomorrow he could finally pay his debt.

_I’ll keep her back. No one will even come at arm length to her, I swear!_

At a determining pace, he trudged back to his quarters. Midway, however, he stopped in front of a large window and peered over to the rooms in the opposite wing. One of them was lit with light and a tall person stood there with their back facing the window.

“Captain…”, he whispered to himself and smiled. “I promise: You’ll be proud of me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> [1] Arab.: „scared cat“, „pussy“ (col.)
> 
> [2] Arab.: „Asshole“
> 
> [3] Arab.: „Bitch“
> 
> [4] German (with an attempt of Swiss dialect): „No, I need… The other file… MedBay, yes.“*
> 
>  
> 
> *If anyone knows Swiss dialect for real: Please correct me! I'm just an ordinary German who only knows to properly write the slang of my area >< And those dicitionaries on the net are... junk.


	5. Stark to Gibralfaro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I could write something about this chapter, but I won't. Same procedure as every chapter: Feel free to leave a comment, they are much appreciated! Also: Don't hesitate to point out my mistakes in language etc.  
> You've got a longer topic to discuss and don't want to do that here? -> Just drop a mail here: ookami.saru@gmail.com.

“An ambassadress in Málaga needs to be escorted.”, Soldier 76 explained curtly. “As you may remark not a very complicated mission, if our client wouldn’t be that contested. Ambassadress Stark isn’t en route alone as well, if it can be put that way. She’s carrying important documents with her that can have a major impact on the friction between the omnics and the human rebels there. Unfortunately, her route from the airport to Castillo de Gibralfaro crosses Carretera de Cádiz, an urban district in the hands of the rebels.”

The long-serving soldier and commander looked silently at the team, which consisted of the well-known sniper Ana Amari, Pharah, and Mercy. The oldest woman frowned slightly.

“I don’t quite get why you only chose us for this mission.”, Ana admitted. “Not that I think we aren’t capable enough for it, but don’t you think that the three of us are quite few if Talon might join the fun? There’s a potential risk to it.”

“No.”, Soldier 76 said simply. “Exactly this is the reason why I chose you. You, Ana, are a master of camouflage next to your skills as a sniper. It’s a piece of cake for you to vanish in the crowd or sneak across the roofs. Pharah has enough experience in this kind of classical security work, so she can sense dangerous hotspots soon enough for you to react. She and a bunch of her men will secure the escort from the sky and keep the crowd in check if necessary.”

He took a breath slightly unnoticeable underneath his mask and turned to Mercy.

“Mercy, you will take care of every injured in case of acts of violence. Otherwise you’ll take a back seat.”

The blonde nodded.

“Good, if there’re no further questions…”, he seemed to muster them seriously behind his mask as he waited for them to speak up. “Dismissed.”

Both Egyptians saluted, whereas the elder of them could not deny a playful grin. Mercy on the other hand, stood indecisively before she remembered her time as a field doctor and sluted as well.

_And I thought these days are gone…_

They stepped out of the office of the elder soldier and guided their steps towards the hangar, where they were supposed to meet the rest of their mission squad. None of them spoke, except Ana. She was silently humming some tune, a small smile hugging her lips. The Swiss looked at her frowning.

“What’s up, Ana?”

“Oh, nothing.”, she answered.

She glanced to her daughter for a moment and then back to Mercy. Something warm and at the same time quite proud glimmered in her eye, something Mercy did not know to classify it. Did Ana look forward to this mission? But why? It made no sense to her.

 _Maybe that’s a soldier thing…,_ Mercy thought and looked ahead her way.

But then it dawned to her, when she noticed herself mindlessly toying with the simple silver ring on her finger.

_Of course! She’s simply happy to spend some time with her daughter, although the circumstances aren’t that well. Welch Ironie [1], as she had always tried to keep Fareeha out of all this._

The women turned into a big room, in which there were several lockers and bigger closets for their equipment. Both younger women swiftly strode towards two closets that contained the last pieces of their armour. As long as they had been inside the smaller rooms of the watch point, they kept their spacious back parts detached. Mercy heard the clicking and latching of Pharah’s jet engines close to her. Just moments later, she heard the clicking of her own wings when she attached them and felt their familiar weight on her back and shoulders. She turned to the mirror in the door of her closet. Her armour fit perfectly and her dog tags were safe underneath her breast plate.

“Heb keini Angst, Mama. Bald ist’s vorbii.”[2], she whispered and carefully placed the ring in a small tray below the mirror, before she slid her gloves onto her hands.

“Mercy.”, Pharah called her from the door that connected the locker room with the hangar.

The blonde glanced over to the young Egyptian. She was – except of her helm – fully dressed in her raptora suit. The blue of her armour shimmered coolly in the light of the neon lamps and underlined her stern and professional personality she showed especially during work. Mercy gave her a quick nod and reached for her Caduceus staff and her pistol.

_Bitte lass sie mi nöd benutze müsse.[3]_

They stepped through the big door, which was rather a compartment and entered the hangar. A bit aloof, four soldiers in raptora suits waited for them around an airfreighter.

“You’ll stay by my side.”, Pharah told Mercy, not bothering to look at her. “Usual tactic. Besides, I need you in case Kuma goes crazy.”

Mercy listened attentively.

“You picked Khalil Kuma for this mission?”

“Yes. The sooner he returns flying his suit, the better.”

“And you’re sure he’s ready for this? Physically he is, but what about his mind?”, Mercy asked a bit worried and looked at Pharah.

Serious brown eyes met her blue ones that despite her professionalism allowed a hint of concern.

“We shall see.”, she said dryly. “And no: Zenyatta didn’t share my opinion.”

Mercy sighed softly and rolled her eyes slightly. Pharah was not that wrong, but still she as a doctor would have picked a gentler method. Sending him right away on a new mission seemed quite risky to her due to his shock he had experienced.

She peeped over to Ana, who talked through the last bits of their plan with Pharah. Probably, she had inherited that from her mother. Mercy could still vividly remember her first lessons at the shooting stand. At first she was completely against carrying a weapon with her, but Winston and Ana had convinced her to have one at hand – only for her own defense of course.

So she started her training with simple hand guns under the sharp eyes of the sniper. They stared with static targets, then with mobile ones and clay pigeons. The clay pigeons already made her feel uneasy but she learned to control it. Then, the memorable day came on which she was confronted with the strictness of the Egyptian woman for the first time… 

* * *

Angela strode down the hallway to the holo shooting stand. The heavy boots made her steps cumbrous and they echoed from the wall loudly. She had not understood why Ana wanted her to wear her full combat gear during their regular shooting training and even during the simulations, but after some time she realized that this was part of Ana’s training got get her ready for the real field. Nevertheless, Angela would wear similar equipment as every other soldier too.

 _“Angela!”_ , the voice of the Egyptian sounded already from across the hallway.

She was waiting in front of the door of the dynamic training course, her distinctive wide smile on her lips. Her usually open long hair was tugged into a ponytail and she wore the same kind of gear as Angela did.

 _“Ready for your last lesson?”_ , she asked and put her hand on to the shoulder of the young Swiss.

 _“My last lesson?”_ , Angela asked, looking at her astonished. _“Sounds like you’ve prepared something special…”_

Ana laughed whole heartedly.

_“Wait and see! Well, then… Let’s go!”_

She shouldered the door open and let Angela pass. The great hall was filled with several hide-outs, railings and mobile targets as usual. Sometimes she wondered how Ana managed to make it look completely different each time. The door clicked behind her and she turned to her.

 _“You know what you have to do.”_ , Ana said. _“Reach the other side of the hall. I’m only your shadow. Ah, and don’t forget your patients.”_

Angela nodded.

_Discreet as possible, keeping my cover and clearing the way. Just as usual._

Pulling her gun, the course became alive. Hurdles that had been nothing more than dull grey blocks or pipes now looked like ruins or devastated tanks. Even the targets changed their appearance. Some looked like drones, others like priming charges or even like panicking civilians, thanks to the high-tech Winston had put in this holo shooting stand.

 _“Go!”_ , Ana barked over the tumult of the simulation and Angela speeded to the next ruin for cover, her gun in aiming position.

Deftly and agile like a cat she dashed from hide-out to hide-out and made sure to help her patients to flee or finding cover until the fight would have been over. There was another painful cry from somewhere close. Were it a soldier or civilian did not matter to her as she would try to help anyone. She carefully poked her head out of her hide-out to locate the victim.

_I should manage to dive roll behind that car. Then I’ll see next…_

She took some steps backwards to gather speed and leapt behind the car. Pressing her back against the cool metal, she gave her a moment to catch her breath and peeped around the corner of it. There was something embedded into the ground that looked like some kind of explosives. Probably a mine. A bit further aloof it she could see the injured person. She huffed angrily noticing that after she would have activated the mine the rest of her path to her target lacked cover.

There was a cough behind her back and the young woman turned her head towards its direction. Ana raised her brow questioningly, receiving a vigorous shake of the head.

_“Everything’s fine.”_

Angela did not wait for a reaction of her mentor and darted out of her cover and shot at the mine. As fast as she had left safety of the car, just as fast she threw herself back behind it to avoid getting hit by shrapnels just in time. Oh, how much she hated these explosions.

When she was sure that the area was clear, Angela started dashing across the path. Her legs burned from the weight of her equipment just as her lungs did from exhaustion.

_I schaff’ das! [4]_

A yell echoed from her right suddenly and within a blink of a second, someone dashed towards her. It was a tall, bulky man, swinging a machete wildly over his head. With wide eyes Angela stopped in her steps and stared at him like a deer staring into the front lights of a car. This was new to her. There has never been a human aggressor during her whole past training lessons. Animals sometimes, but never a human.

Her hand gun dangled in her limp hand.

 _“Shoot!”_ , Ana demanded sharply behind her.

 _“I can’t!”_ , Angela panted.

_“If you don’t shoot, he’ll kill you!”_

_“I CHAN NÖD!”_

_“SHOOT!”_

Angela’s arm shot up, the banging sound of a fired gun echoed through the air and the man stopped in his steps. His arm that held the machete turned limp, falling to his side until the weapon slid out of the grip and hit the floor. Mazy eyes dropped to the blood gushing wound on his chest, his hand trying to stop the red juice of life. Then, when he realized what had happened, his legs gave in and he slumped down into a shapeless bundle. He was dead.

With wide eyes, she stared at the corpse in horror. Her breathing was rapid and came in pants, her whole body was shaking. Cold sweat trailed through every pore, covering her in a thin and shiny film.

 _“Behind you!”_ , Ana barked and Angela spun around.

This time two men approached her, one armoured, the other bare-handed.

_“Shoot!”_

She shot, but more because she jumped by the steel in the voice of her mentor, than that she wanted to kill consciously. The shot missed the armoured man just slightly.

 _“His chest!”_ , Ana admonished her.

Another shot was fired and the man hit the ground. Soon his comrade followed him. Angela spun around, when she heard an incomprehensible cry from her patient. There was a fourth person, holding his gun to the head of the wounded as they gripped their hostage tightly around its shoulders. Intoxicated by adrenalin, Angela lost not a second shooting her gun up and pulling the trigger. Headshot.

Heavy pants and the sound of rushing blood filled her perception. She could not believe what had happened just now. Never would she have believed to ever shoot a human, although this was just a simulation for now. But she was not given enough time to process the recent events, when a hand gripped her arm tightly and forced her to turn around. Brown eyes met hers. Ana gripped her hand that held onto the gun and pressed the barrel to her chest.

 _“Shoot.”_ There was no mercy in Ana’s voice.

Blue eyes were widened in shock, head shaking.

_“Shoot or do you want me to kill you?”_

Tears trailed down Angela’s cheeks.

_“I-I… c-can’t do this!”_

Straight-faced, her thumb found her students finger on the trigger and forced it to pull it. A shot that appeared to be deafening to Angela echoed from the walls. There was dead silence.

It seemed that all strength was drained from Angela’s legs. She had done it. She had shot Ana and still the tall woman was standing right in front of her, steadfast and mighty. Her knees hurt, as they made hit the ground beneath her, but it reached her nerves as if a thick curtain of fog surrounded her. Bending over, her stomach felt as someone had hit her with a sledgehammer and she vomited. That was too much for Angela. Although she had seen and treated many war victims with her only 18 years of age, but none of that could have prepared her for the moment when a bullet penetrates a body, smashing bones and making blood and kinds of tissues gush through the air.

Choking and crying, she was nothing more than a shaking bundle before Ana’s feet.

 _“Everything’s alright, sughirati[5]. You did very well.”_ , Ana said softly, kneeling down to her.

Soothing the shaking bundle before her, she repeated her words like a mantra until the young woman had calmed down a bit. She tilted her head to meet blue tear stained eyes, smiling warmly at her. Ana’s eyes looked deep into Angela, but there was nothing left of the cold that dominated her gaze before. Her brown eyes were warm, soft and some sort of pride sparkled in them that – strangely enough – calmed Angela. Arms rose shakily and Angela wrapped them around Ana’s neck, curling herself into that warm body like a child, without thinking about their difference in positions. But Ana let and gently hugged her.

* * *

Mercy shook her head barely noticeable and exhaled deeply.

_Definitely shock treatment in Amari style…_

The squad entered the airfreighter, their steps clicking each time as they walked up the ramp. Through the half opened door to the cockpit, Mercy could see Tracer talking to someone on her radio set.

“Aaaw, Winston! You can’t be serious! Just a quick – But it’s a piece of cake with my chrono-accsy… And if I promise tha’ Emily and I wo –“

Behind one hand, Mercy chuckled softly. Almost every Overwatch agent knew, that whenever Tracer was only assigned to piloting small teams to their next mission, she would likely take a detour to her partner in London while she had to wait for the others to finish their task. So it was no wonder that she was about to do the same today as well.

_A partner… She’s got someone to return when everything’s over… A pleasant thought. What will I do then? Will I be still travelling around in my Valkyrie suit? Alone?_

She sighed and fastened the belts for the flight. It was better, if she would not continue this trail of thoughts for now. This was not the right time to do so.

“Kuma, you’ll stay in my sight.”, Pharah ended her briefing and Mercy jumped slightly.

She had been caught so deep in her thoughts that she had not noticed the briefing of the Helix members. She lifted her gaze from her belts. Across to her sat Khalil Kuma, wearing his plain brown raptora suit directly facing Phara. Her blue eyes mustered him intently, which would have been easier if the visor of his helmet would not have covered half of his face. If she did not know better, Mercy sensed some kind of joy. Her gaze wandered to his corners of his mouth. Yes, something about him was odd.

Suddenly she felt the careful touch of Pharah’s hand on her forearm and noticed her bending down to her.

“I’m sorry, if I had been grumpy to you yesterday.”, Pharah whispered in her ear.

“Oh, nothing to worry about. I’m used to worse.”, Angela shrugged.

“Hmmph.”, the other woman hummed and set back up. “Still.”

The place where Pharah had touched her just a moment ago still felt pleasantly warm. In general, Mercy noticed, Pharah always seemed to radiate some kind of warmth. A warmth that could swap over others as well.

 _Stopp!_ , she warned herself.

But despite that, she peeped through the corner of her eye to Pharah.

 _A penny for her thoughts._ , both women thought secretly to themselves.

* * *

They landed at a more aloof area of the airport, so they would not attract attention. A black limousine already waited for them, a tall man, who seemed to be ambassadress Stark’s bodyguard, stood in front of the doors in the back. He was about 1,90m tall, which made Pharah to lean her head back a bit to meet his eyes behind his sunglasses.

“Johnson.”, he introduced himself, his voice deep and smoky. “I thought we engaged Helix and not those traitors.”

He nodded towards Mercy’s direction and Pharah followed it, turning her head.

_Watch your mouth, merc!_

“You did.”, she answered. “She is accompanying us, just in case someone gets wounded. As you may know Overwatch doesn’t exists anymore, but Helix is quite lucky to have a trustworthy and splendid doctor working on one of their projects and takes care of their staff.”

Johnson hummed, still a bit skeptical but was satisfied with that.

“Well. But she’ll stay low-key at any time! I don’t want ambassadress Stark to gain more enemies.”, he said seriously.

“No, need to worry about that, Sir.”

“Good. This is the route. The police will protect the car on the ground.”

He handed Pharah a small map, showing the exact route. Of course Athena already gave her this information, but she pretended to see them for the first time.

“Thank you, Sir. We will safeguard you from the sky then.”, she said and put the map into a small pocket in her breastplate.

Johnson gave her his hand that she accepted with a strong grip, making her point clear. This was her team, her mission and no bodyguard would say anything against her team or her. He then signed the driver to start the engines and hurried into the limousine.

“Jaffar. Bring Ana to her position.”, Pharah ordered.

“What?!”, Ana revolted. “I can walk by myself, thank you very much!”

Pharah sighed and turned to her mother.

“You wouldn’t be there in time. Jaffar, fly her there.”

“Ma’am?”, Jaffar asked, as he stepped behind the old sniper and offered his arms to carry her.

“Oh, no! I’m not some piece of dead meat you can carry somewhere! I will not let that – “

“MOM!”, Pharah intervened angrily.

Sometimes she just could not understand her. How on earth had she made it so far at the military, if she had acted the same way as she did now? Jaffar did not know what to do and just stood there indecisive until Ana nudged his shoulder.

“Well, you heard the Captain. How does an old woman like me has to wait until she is brought to her position?”, she chided him.

 _One day_ , Pharah thought, _One day she’ll drive me insane! Her humor really didn’t improve during her time she played hide and seek with the rest of the world._

Mercy harrumphed behind her.

“Shall we then?”, she asked.

“Of course.”

Pharah turned to her and was about to start her engines but a crack in her headset stopped her from doing so.

“Take care, Justice. But I think you’re in very safe hands.”, Ana’s voice chuckled in her earpiece.

“Mom!”, she hissed back.

“Did I say something wrong? Don’t forget that I taught her how to shoot. Or did I remember you about something else, what you’d like her hands to do~?”, she teased her daughter.

Pharah was about to give her a biting response but Mercy joined their channel.

“Ana, whatever you’ve told Pharah: You’re keeping us from flying.”

The elder woman chuckled.

“You’re right. Well, then. Aleinayat binafsik.[6]“

“Thanks.“, Pharah sighed.

Mercy just smiled in amusement.

“Looks like you two are getting along quite well.”

“I rather not comment on this.”

She let her jets hum alive.

_We don’t talk much actually but if we do, she always treats me like a small child…_

The jets carefully carried her up into the air. She waited at some point for Mercy to follow her. The blonde jumped up when she had reached a few meters and extended her wings. With elegant flags, she flew up behind Pharah with some distance and signed her that she was now able to use her jets flow forces for the rest of their flight.

“Kuma.”, Pharah said over her headset and the young soldier dashed up into the air next to her.

“Aye, Captain!”

They followed their target down the road in silence, always keeping sight contact to it. When they got closer to the risky quarter, Pharah felt some kind of strange feeling.

_Something isn’t right._

As if she had read her mind, Ana contacted her.

“It’s a bit too silent here for my taste.”

A moment later, a video popped up in one corner of her visor, showing her the streets of Carretera de Cádiz. They were empty. The blinds of the houses were shut, cars stood unmoved at the streets and there were no signs of people on the streets.

“How long ‘til you’re here?”, Ana asked.

“’Bout three minutes. Jaffar, Safi, ground control of the main road. Aziz, another area check from the sky.”

“Understood!”

She glanced over her shoulder to Mercy.

“Mercy, hang on to Kuma. I fly ahead.”

The blonde frowned for a moment. Usually it would not be a problem to speed up their pace, although Pharah had her in tow. But Mercy understood that she wanted to use her rocket jump in the horizontal, which would be more than dangerous for her in the back. Her wings flapped and pushed her out of Pharah’s jet streams and flew over to Khalil. Within a blink, she disappeared in a blue arrow.

“What’s she planning?”, Khaili asked.

Mercy frowned.

“Probably she wants to get an impression of her own or she wants to find an escape route.”

* * *

“¡Padre dios!”[7], the woman sighed and stretched herself delicately in her swivel chair.

She was an odd appearance with her hair combed to one side, so that the left half of her head was completely free, only covered with very short cut hair that showed some patterns. This alone would not have been so strange about her but some sort of wires clasped around her left side of her head like the fingers of a hand and united at the back of her head, glowing in a pink shimmer that seemed to continue down her spine. Beside this eye-catching oddity, she also seemed to have a very special taste concerning her clothing. Except of a short coat and a skirt, she wore a skin tight overall that was preferably pink and ended in some kind of barefoot shoes. Obviously nothing one would wear for their daily life.

“Wouldn’t have thought this little thing really works…”, she mumbled to herself and fiddled with a tiny instrument in her hand.

“Ey, Sombra.”, a male voice cracked over her earpiece. “How long do we have to wait?”

She rolled her eyes and made a wiping movement with one hand in the air. Like magic, a holographic display appeared before her.

“Sí, sí.”, Sombra groaned. “Just a few minutes.”

On her display, she could see the street ambassadress Stark was travelling, perfectly equipped with security cameras of the police. It was obvious: Sombra was a hacker.

“Eh, and another thing.”, the man harrumphed. “This scarecrow and that pig… Are those your buddies?”

“¿Mis amigos? No, I thought they belonged to you.”, she responded and opened another display.

Somewhere on an abandoned factory site, a big crowd of punks and rebels seemed to wait for something. Sombra zoomed in and looked for people matching the description among the crowd. She smirked.

“Ah, look who we have here. Don’t worry, those two are on your side. You’re lucky having Roadhog and Junkrat joining you. They’ll be quite helpful.”

A signal blurted from somewhere and Sombra turned to the other display.

“¡Ojo![8] Get ready to welcome ambassadress Stark.”

The limousine slowly approached the position where she would make use of the little instrument. She counted down the seconds, then she snapped her fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> [1] German: „What Irony.“
> 
> [2] Swiss German: „Don’t be afraid, mom. It’s over soon.”
> 
> [3] Swiss German: „Please don’t make me use it.“
> 
> [4] Swiss German: „I can do it!“
> 
> [5] Arab.: „My little one“; „My child“
> 
> [6] Arab.: „Take care of yourselves.“
> 
> [7] Span.: „God Father!“; „God!“
> 
> [8] Span.: „Watch out!“


End file.
